My SoCalled Afterlife
by Deranged Black Kitten
Summary: It's a nice gravestone.' 'Yeah,' I agreed, 'It is.' When plague sweeps the nation, JD finds himself having to divide his time between being a grim reaper and being a doctor. Takes place after My Deadly Little Secret.
1. Chapter 1

_Greetings readers of fic! How ya'll doing? Here's the next installment for the Scrubs/Dead Like Me crossover series. This story will be longer than the previous one, 'My Deadly Little Secret.' You don't really have to read that one to understand this one. All you really need to know is that JD's a grim reaper._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, so don't bother suing her.

_One last note: There is no Kim in my story. It only complicates things especially considering the fact that JD's technically dead and I'm really not sure if grim reapers can reproduce with the living. Also, Carla's still pregnant, Dr. Cox only has a son, not a future daughter, and JD has his half-acre and deck. However, I don't remember when he ends up moving out and living in a tent, so for now he'll still be living with Turk and Carla._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_It was December 23, 1905. The sky was partly cloudy and the temperature was in the low fifties. I slowly walked through the graveyard, my gaze unfocused as I reminisced on past memories. Walking to my left with a six pack held loosely in his grip was Dan. I had only known him for three years, but in those three years we've become like brothers, not really close brothers, but brothers none-the-less. _

_However, despite those three years, I didn't know too much about Dan, just that he was a pretty laid back guy who died of the plague sometime around 1711 and that he was known by many different names to the living. _

_I was pulled from my thoughts as we stopped in front of a familiar, medium-sized headstone that had a few fresh cut flowers resting before it. It was made of a polished, gray marble that was, oddly enough, shining as if it were new, and I vaguely wondered if it was Emily who had stopped by to clean it and bring fresh flowers. _

_Dan popped open two beers and handed me one. As he held up his beer, he said, "Here's to being a reaper." _

_I silently held up my own beer, but couldn't tear my gaze away from the headstone. The one death you never truly get over is your own. Sure, the pain would fade over time, but a dull ache would always remain. After all, everything you had lived for, everyone you knew and loved, pulled out of reach. While you could view them from afar, you couldn't interact. Not without consequences. _

_Taking a small sip of beer, my eyes quietly read over the words carved in the gray marble. _

Joseph Donovan  
Husband - Brother - Son  
1875 ----- 1902  
He will be missed

_"We hadn't even been married a year," I mumbled to him quietly. _

_Dan nodded before taking a long drink from his beer. We stood before my grave in silence for a few minutes before he finally said, "It's a nice gravestone." _

_"Yeah," I agreed, "It is."_

* * *

The blaring of the alarm clock woke me from my sleep. I groaned out loud as I turned off the alarm and begun my morning routine. It was once again December 23, just a few days until Christmas. Today is the day I hate most out of all the other days of the year.

Practically everyone at the hospital thought that I hated Christmas because I always got a little bitter around this time of year. So I just went along with their assumptions and claimed that my Scrooge attitude was because of family-related issues. It's not like I could tell them the truth; that the reason why I seem down is because today is _my day._

The day I took the big sleep one hundred and five years ago. Although it wasn't much of a big sleep. Hell, it was barely even a nap. I go to 'rest my eyes' for a second and the next thing I know, I'm standing over my lifeless body. I barely even had enough time to process the fact that I had died before Sam, the head reaper of our division up until around a year ago, whisked me away to train me for my new after-life.

Now I know what some of you may be thinking: One hundred and five years JD? Shouldn't you have gotten over it by now?

A perfectly valid question, and you're right. I pretty much have gotten over my death. One hundred and five years is plenty of time to cope. It's not so much the fact that I died that makes me feel mopey as it is the dull ache I always feel around this time of year. It's sort of like a subconscious sense of loss that I really have no control over.

I use the word 'subconscious' because I don't exactly remember a lot about my life before my death. I know of certain things, like the fact that I was married to a beautiful, youthful woman named Emily and that we were living together at the time that I died, but I don't remember specific details like when we moved in together. I know that I truly loved her, but I don't remember what it was about her that made me love her so much.

I guess that's why I stopped visiting my own grave over sixty years ago. Seeing it just encouraged the dull ache I felt and it also reminded me that I was forgetting some very important details of my life. There's nothing more annoying than knowing you're forgetting something, but being unable to remember what that something is.

Forgetting is just the price I have to pay for interfering in my past-life when I should have just moved on...

'_No, just stop those thoughts right now,_' I mentally scolded myself.

I wasn't going to let it get to me this year. It was time I fully and completely move on, aching feeling and all. This was the year I will hold my head up high and be my normally happy and goofy self. I'll walk into that hospital and act as if it were any other normal day. Hell, I'll even try and get into the Christmas cheer. Maybe... just a little bit.

I reached Sacred Heart without any incidents and I was even able to grab my charts without an unwanted run-in with the Janitor. I smiled at everyone and exchanged pleasantries with the occasional 'Happy Holidays' thrown in. Dr. Cox's morning rant was taken in stride and sent me into a brief daydream about a pool full of pudding (don't ask). The normality of it all was really quite refreshing.

I had just finished checking up on one of my patients and everything seemed to be going great up until the Todd came strolling up to me.

He raised his hand up to give me a high-five as usual and said with grin, "Hey, R-five!"

I mentally sighed as I returned the gesture. God, why did he have to hit so hard!

However, there was a reason why he sought me out and I could tell as soon as the grin dropped from his face and his tone became more serious, "I'm just telling you in advance that Ted's getting the Big Five today, so don't freak out on me, okay?"

In a hospital as big as Sacred Heart, it'd be a little egotistical of me to say that I was the only grim reaper working in it. The Big Five was the Todd's code for 'the big sleep'. Yes, that's right, the Todd was a grim reaper too. He's a part of the "external influence" division which basically means that he's responsible for reaping the souls of people who die in accidents, homicides, and suicides.

Because I'm part of a different division, it had taken me a few months into my internship to realize that he was a reaper. I had caught him high-fiving the soul out of one of the patients. I confronted him on it and we spent a couple minutes reminiscing on reaper life before returning to work. Several hours later when I saw him raise his hand to high-five Turk, I completely flipped out and, well, tackled the Todd to the ground before their hands could meet.

So to make hospital life less stressful and to keep myself from attacking the Todd whenever he gave out a high-five to one of my friends, he agreed to warn me in advance if anyone I knew on a personal level was about to receive the Big Five.

Coming back to reality, I sighed but nodded my 'okay' anyway. He gave me a small smile and patted me on the shoulder before walking off to go take care of business.

'_Just when it seemed like the day was looking up,_' I thought sadly, my spirits dropping.

I didn't know Ted that well. He was more of an acquaintance than a friend, but even the death of an acquaintance will get me down. Hell, the death of a stranger can even depress me. Looks like after all those threats of suicide, he was finally going to go through with it. Of course, it could be something else, something even he didn't expect that offs him; though suicide seemed the most likely route.

As I went to go check on another patient, I found myself a little amused by the fact that Ted's going to die on the same day that I did. Huh, he must be feeling the Christmas blues.

(_"I'm dreaming of a red Christmas," Ted sang in a deep, sad tone right before he stepped off the building._)

Now that was just horrible. Although that song does seem pretty low, slow, and depressing to me.

As I reached my patient's room, Anna Sven, I quickly scanned over her chart. She came in with a fever of 102 degrees Fahrenheit and since then had developed chills, chest pains, and a cough with bloody sputum.

"Mrs. Sven, it sounds like you have pneumonia, but we'll need to get a chest x-ray just to be sure," I told her and at her miserable look, I gave her a reassuring smile before leaving.

There seemed to be a lot of pneumonia cases going around. In fact, this was my second case today and it wasn't even lunch time yet. Luckily, pneumonia wasn't contagious, so once I get those chest x-rays back, I can set them both up with the right antibiotics.

I was torn from my musings by the sound of my beeper and sighed at the message I read off of it. Ted's body had been found and my assumptions were correct. He had jumped off the building. The impact had killed him instantly. A nurse attempted to contact his mother only to find out that the women died just a few days ago and while everyone was surprised, it seemed to explain everything.

A feeling of stunned disbelief seemed to fall over everyone in the hospital which was, in a way, funny because it's not like Ted never tried to kill himself before. I guess everyone, myself included, just thought he'd never get up the guts to do it. Well, he sure showed us.

Still, there was work to be done. After all, it was a hospital and there was a lot of sick and injured people to take care of, and as much as we would like to take the rest of the day off after something like this, we couldn't just abandon our patients.

Speaking of which, I just got the chest x-rays back on my two potential pneumonia patients. Hmm, make that my two pneumonia patients. Good thing they came in when they did because it would've only gotten worse if they didn't get the right treatment.

As I gave them their diagnosis and hooked them up to the proper antibiotics, I was paged to the nurse's station for a phone call. Immediately I felt nervous. After all, everyone I knew who would actually call me was here in the hospital, and if they needed to talk to me then they would just page me. Not only that, but people don't usually call you via the hospital just to chat.

Lavern held up the phone to me as I approached and upon seeing my confused look, said, "Your brother."

'_Shit._'

* * *

_I decided to end it here. It's not so much a cliffhanger as it is a question as to why Dan would be calling. Now, lately what I've been doing is waiting till I completely write out the entire story that way you're not left wondering what happens next for months on end because of my procrastination, but I decided to throw you all a bone. Hopefully I'll be better at updating this story, but I'm not making any promises. _

_Review please!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Greetings readers of fic! Glad you liked the first chapter and to answer Sky Pad's question: Yes, the Dan in the flashback is the same Dan that plays JD's brother in the show. Also, in case you guys didn't catch it, the once head-reaper, Sam, is the same Sam that played JD's dad in the show. Moving on..._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, so don't bother suing her.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"Dan, what do you want?" I immediately asked, getting straight to the point.

"What, no 'Hi Dan. How are you? Nice weather we're having.'?" he said, offended.

"No, see, if you were just calling to chat, you wouldn't have called me at work," I explained. "So I ask again, Dan, what do you want?"

"You really need to work on your phone skills, little brother," he scolded lightly.

"Dan!"

"Happy Death Day, Joey!" he exclaimed jubilantly.

I paused for a moment to rub my forehead, feeling a Dan-induced headache coming on, before I turned my attention back to the phone, "For the love-of-God, Dan, please tell me this isn't the reason why you called me. I mean, what if I had completely forgotten all about that and you just ended up reminding me of one of the most saddest moments in my life?"

This time he paused for a moment before hesitantly asking, "Did I?"

"No, but that's not the point, and for the last time, it's JD," I said then, lowering my voice when I noticed Lavern glancing at me every now and then, I hissed, "At least call me Johnny or John."

"Sure thing Johnny-boy. So John-John-Johnny-John, care to tell me why you have such a stick up your ass? I thought you got over that whole self-pity thing," Dan said; I could practically see the grin on his face.

"Someone died," I said with a depressed tinge to my tone.

"Somebody always dies," he said dismissively.

"No, somebody I know... Knew," I explained.

He suddenly sounded concerned as he asked, "Turk?"

"No, Ted."

"But Ted's a reaper," Dan said in confusion.

"You're thinking of the Todd. Ted is the hospital's lawyer. Er, _was_ the hospital's lawyer," I mumbled.

"Oh. Well, you know, another one bites the dust. Circle of life and all that," he rambled off.

"You're sympathy is overwhelming," I hissed sarcastically.

"What?" he shouted defensively, "I didn't know the guy!"

As I ran a hand through my hair, I asked in exasperation, "Dan, is there a reason for this call?"

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to ignore the anniversary of the day little _Josie_ bought the farm?" he asked, clearly stalling, though I wasn't sure why.

"I'm hanging up the phone now," I stated flatly.

However, before I could, Dan shouted, "Wait!"

"I'm listening," I sighed.

"Look, I know it's your day and everything, and that this is probably the last thing you want to deal with right now, but we've got a reap here with your name on it," he finally confessed.

"You're kidding!" I said incredulously, smacking a hand to my forehead, "Just when I thought the day couldn't get any worse. What are the odds of that even happening anymore?"

"While it's very uncommon, there are still those few occasional cases of it," Dan reminded me.

"Yeah, I know," I muttered as I grabbed a pen and a nearby stack of Post-its, "Okay, so what's the information?"

"P.R. Bengal. Dunkin' Donuts. Thirty-four Park Street. Estimated time of death is 3:45 AM," Dan said.

"Oh wonderful! My shift ends at midnight," I griped while scribbling the information onto the Post-it.

"Then you'll have plenty of time, and look at it this way: you can get coffee while you're there," he laughed.

I growled at him before saying, "I gotta go, okay?"

"Sure thing, little brother. Talk to you later John-John-_Johnny-_"

I hung up before he could finish then proceeded to bang my head against the front desk. By the time I'd get home after my shift, I'd probably only get two hours of sleep before I'd have to head out and find this Bengal person. Dan was right though, at least it was near a Dunkin' Donuts. If I was really lucky, the person would pass on pretty quickly and I'd be able to catch a couple more hours of sleep before I had to head into work again.

"I hate it when my schedule gets piled up like this," I muttered quietly to myself.

Just then, a sharp and loud whistle tore through the air and the familiar voice of my mentor quickly followed it, "Newbie, if you're all done wasting the hospital's time and money with those long distance calls to your boyfriend who swears that the exhausted female voice that answers each time you call is really just his sister, but let me tell you, she's not, she's just not," he shook his head to emphasize his point as he pulled out a couple of charts from under his arm, "I'm gonna need you to take a few of these pneumonia patients off my shoulders for a bit. All you really need to do is watch them and make sure they don't choke on their own sputum, do you think you can handle that, Emily?"

And suddenly I was hit with that aching sense of loss. It twisted up my insides and sent my emotions on end, and before I could contain myself, I yelled, "You know what? I already have enough on my plate as it is! So I'm gonna need you to _keep_ your patients and _back off!_ You think you can handle that, _Dr. Cox?_"

I made a hasty retreat before he could recover from his shock and respond. It was partly because now seemed the perfect moment to storm off, but it was mostly because I was a little afraid of how he'd react to my outburst.

Shit, I shouldn't have done that. Seriously though, out of all the names he could have picked for today of all days, it had to be _hers._

'_Emily,_' I thought sadly, '_My beautiful wife. We had known each other for so long, but I can't remember how long. Emily, I had to leave you behind, just when our marriage was first starting out. I had watched as you moved on with your life. Why couldn't I move on as easily as you did..._'

I had managed to avoid Dr. Cox for the rest of my shift and while I would say it was due to my ninja-like agility, I had a feeling he decided to just leave me alone for the time being. Well, if anyone asks, I'm telling them it's because of my sweet ninja moves.

By the time I got home on Sasha, it was twelve thirty and Carla and Turk were already asleep since their shifts had ended before mine and they had to get up earlier than I did. So after setting my alarm, I managed to catch around two hours of sleep before I had to get up and find that Dunkin' Donuts.

'_Man, I hate it when people die at ungodly hours of the morning,_' I thought languidly as I grabbed my coat and helmet; I hadn't bothered getting undressed for bed and instead had just put on my work clothes for tomorrow... Technically today.

As quietly as I could, I stumbled through the dark apartment and down the stairs to Sasha before heading off to thirty-four Park Street. It took a lot of driving around aimlessly before I finally swallowed my pride and stopped to ask for directions. Next time I'll bring a map.

"A GPS should come with the job," I muttered bitterly as I parked in front of the Dunkin Donuts that was, of course, closed. So much for the getting coffee idea.

I hopped off my scooter and looked around, but there was nobody in site. That just so completely figures, right? Not only did I have to wake up at this God-forsaken hour of the morning, but now I also had to go in search of the guy or girl. They should really make the destinations more specific; it'd make the job a bit easier.

I began walking the perimeter of the building, and just when I was starting to think that the person might be inside and that I'd have to break in, I spotted... him? Hmm, I walked closer to the still form. Yup, I'm ninety-five percent sure that's a guy, it's just a little hard to tell with mud and grime caked on his body. I guess the fact that it's a homeless guy makes the cause of death make much more sense.

All grim reapers are divided up into different divisions depending upon how they died, and among each division are groups of reapers assigned to different areas. So the Todd for example is a part of the _external influence_ division because he was killed through a college football hazing-related incident.

_"It's down to the final test, Todd. If you want to be on the team, all you have to do is grab that bee hive over there," the football captain said, pointing at a hive in a tree off in the distance, "and throw it like a football." _

_Todd stared at his honey covered hands and said doubtfully, "I dunno..." _

_"Come on man!" shouted another guy on the team, "We all did it at one time, now it's your turn." _

_So after a few more encouraging shouts from the team, Todd raced over to the tree, plucked the rather large bee hive out of it, and threw it like a football. However, the bees weren't too happy about that and what nobody, not even Todd himself knew, was that he was highly allergic to bees. This idiotic right-of- passage would be the first time he'd even been stung, and incidentally, the last time as well. _

_"I don't feel so good," he winced, swaying on his feet. _

_That was when a girl who looked to be a few years older than Todd walked over to him. Nobody on the football team seemed to notice her, but Todd didn't think too much of it. He figured she was just one of the college girls coming over to admire his success for getting on the team. However, the look she was giving him didn't look like one of approval. _

_She finally looked him right in the eyes and said, "Well, think of it this way: At least you didn't die a virgin. Hey, good job, high-five, man." _

_With a grin on his gradually swelling face, Todd raised his hand to high-five the girl, not about to tell her that her first statement was untrue. That would all change pretty soon though, because he could tell that she __**so**__ wanted him._

He was part of a team of around five other reapers who took care of the souls who died due to external influences in this particular area of California. I however, as I had mentioned before, am part of a different division of reapers. One of the worst divisions that many reapers would rather not be a part of. I am part of the _plague division._ The reason why this sucks so much is because the odds of someone dieing due to the plague these days is slim to none.

So while I may not have the unfortunate job of reaping souls on a daily basis like the Todd, I'll still be stuck on this planet as a grim reaper until I fill my quota, which basically means that I'm going to be around for a lot longer than your average reaper. That's why it's possible for Dan, who is over three hundred years old, to still be around. I myself will end up outliving the Todd, the Todd's replacement, and most likely even the Todd's replacement's replacement.

I lightly nudged the homeless guy with my foot to see if he was just sleeping. After all, I wouldn't want to reap the wrong person. When he didn't move, I checked for a pulse. Yup, defiantly dead. I glanced at my watch to see that it was three-fifty. Damn. Off by five minutes.

Reaching down, I gently brushed my hand down his arm; my fingers briefly leaving behind a light glow.

'_Huh, for a homeless guy, he doesn't smell half bad,_' I thought absentmindedly.

As I took a step back and wiped my hand off on my pants, the man's soul sat up from his body. He looked around, confused, before he got to his feet and completely left his body behind. He gave me a quizzical look before he turned around and jumped at the sight of his own body.

"Well, damn," he finally said.

"I'm sure this must be hard for you," I started off. It was the sort of speech I gave every soul I reaped.

However, he waved off my condolences and said, "Nah, not really. Life was kinda suckin' for me anyway." he paused to give me a once-over before asking, "You some kinda ghost or somethin'?"

"Close, I'm a grim reaper," I said lightly.

"Yeah? How's that workin' out for you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I shrugged, "The pay sucks, but I manage."

He nodded before turning back to his body and asking, "So, how'd I die?"

"Believe it or not, but the plague," I told him.

"Huh, that's weird. I don't remember gettin' bit by a rat," he mused.

"Squirrels can be carriers too," I said conversationally as I led him out from behind the Dunkin Donuts, "and It's actually the fleas on the rats that cause it."

"What happens now?" he asked.

"You go off into a pretty light and from there, well, not even I know the answer to that," I explained as we reached the front of the now-open Dunkin Donuts. Open at four, now that's dedicated. Seeing no 'pretty lights' just yet, I walked him into the building and ordered a coffee. As we took a seat at a booth, me with my coffee in hand, I asked him, "So, Mr. Bengal, do you have any family that should be notified?"

"Nah, I never had any kids or a steady relationship or anything like that and there's nobody left alive in my family," he said.

"I'm sorry," I couldn't help but say.

He just waved the apology off and gave me an easy grin, "No need for any of that now. If death is anything like it is in movies, then I'll be seeing them all pretty soon."

No family. Then that would mean...

"Mr. Bengal, could I write an obituary for you?" I asked him a bit hesitantly.

"Well hell, kid, if you really want to," he said shrugging.

With a smile, I pulled out a pen from my pocket and grabbed a couple of napkins from the dispenser. Deciding to start with a simple question, I asked, "What's your full name, Mr. Bengal?"

"Peter Rohan Bengal, and that's Rohan with an 'h' there in the middle," he gestured at my writing.

"Alright," I nodded, correcting the mistake, "Who were you're parents?"

"That would be Annette and Rohan Bengal, they were still married at the time," he explained.

"Any siblings?" I asked.

"Yup, I had an older brother, Conrad Bengal, and a younger sister, Amelia Smith. Amelia married a young fellow named Brendan Smith. Boy, those two were crazy about each other," he said with a chuckle.

I smiled along with him as I scribbled down the names before asking, "Anything else about your life you'd like to be noted."

"Well, I was a pilot in the air force during World War Two. After that, I just flew for the joy of it," he said wistfully, then continued with a frown, "Then I had to sell my plane. Ah well, that doesn't matter much now that I'm dead."

"It'll get better," I said reassuringly.

It was then that I saw a bright flash of colorful lights through the large windows of the Dunkin Donuts. Gesturing over his shoulder to the store entrance, I said, "Looks like your ride is hear."

He turned around and gazed at the lights with a look of awe. After folding up the napkins with his information on them and slipping them into my pocket, I took Peter by the hand and led him outside. As soon as we reached outside, a happy smile replaced his look of awe, for parked there in the streets was a mini jet plane. I let go of his hand when he slowly approached the plane, and as he reached its side, his soul turned into several sparkling lights that merged with the iridescent aircraft. I watched at the jet plane took off into the air, flying high into the sky until it finally disappeared with one last bright flash of light.

* * *

_Wow, two chapters in one week. Really people, this is a rare occurrence for me. Let's all thank my week off for this! Unfortunately, for the remaining three days of my vacation, I'll be either working, or finishing up my big, stupid English assignment. After that, I have an unusually busy week of school ahead of me. So the next time I'll be able to work on this is in May sometime. _

_Review please!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Greetings readers of fic! Here's chapter 3 of My So-Called Afterlife. Some of the events in the chapter may require some knowlege of my other story '_My Deadly Little Secret.'_  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, so don't bother suing her.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

In retrospect, I probably should have headed home once Peter Bengal's soul passed on and try to catch a couple more hours of sleep before I had to go to work. However, I knew my conscience would never let me hear the end of it if I just left his body laying in the alleyway next to the Dunkin Donuts. So I played the part of the freaked out customer and went running back into the building to report the dead body I came across when I had gone to the dumpster to throw away my coffee.

Not only did that mean I had to throw away a perfectly good coffee to make the story true, but I also had to wait around for the police to come and take my statement. Now, you would think that because it was a Dunkin Donuts the police were being called to, they would be there quicker than you can blink, but that stereotype doesn't apply when it's almost four-thirty in the morning. Also, since it was 'just a homeless guy' (their words, not mine) who was quite obviously already dead and was out of sight of the general public, it wasn't their top priority.

By the time they actually showed up, I was already on my second muffin and my fourth cup of coffee. After taking my statement and asking several questions, I was free to go. Thank God too because my shift was in two hours and both the hospital and the apartment was a bit of a drive from here. I'd have just enough time to shower before heading into work.

Man, with only two hours of sleep, I knew that today was just going to _drag by._

Thankfully, traffic wasn't too bad, so not only did I get a shower out of the way, but I also had enough time to stop by the coffee shop near the hospital to get a coffee for Dr. Cox as a sort of peace offering to make up for me biting his head off yesterday.

Sure enough, as soon as I reached the nurse's station, I was met with an angry glare and his harsh cry of "Priscilla!" but before he could say another word, I held out the coffee to him like I was holding up a shield. He looked from me to the coffee a few times before growling and snatching the cup away from me. After taking a small sip to make sure that the beverage was good enough to let this all slide by, he finally said, "You're off the hook this time, but for God's sake, Newbie, the next time you're PMSing, send out a memo to the rest of us."

"Bambi, where were you this morning? You were gone when we woke up," Carla said as she walked over to me from down the hall.

"I was out getting some last minute Christmas shopping done," I lied; I finished that _weeks_ ago.

She smiled, nodding, and it was at that point that Kelso walked in and shouted, "Gather 'round everyone!"

We shrugged but complied anyway; everyone within earshot of his call crowding around him. Kelso gave us all one of those quick fake smiles before frowning and saying, "As I'm sure you all know, we've recently lost one of our own yesterday. I believe a moment of silence is in order for Ted." we all bowed our heads solemnly for several seconds before Kelso said, "Moment's over! For anyone who's interested, his funeral will be held the day after Christmas. Now, moving on to other related news. Due to the hospital's low budget, the only lawyer I was able to hire on such sort notice is a Mr. Castello."

Castello... Castello... Why does that name seem so familiar?

_I approached him in two quick strides and reached forward with both hands. Both hands which, instead of simply coming in contact with his chest, went into his chest, but not in a graphic, bloody way you may see in one of those twisted cartoons. It was more like I fazed my hands into his chest. Finding just what I was looking for, I grabbed hold and pulled his soul right out of his body. _

_Jack, his soul that is, gazed at me in fear. I responded with a cheerful smile and said quietly in case someone was listening through the door, "Listen closely Jack because this is how it's going to go down. First, you're not going to press any charges against my friend. Carla was simply acting on her mothering instincts. As for pressing charges against me, well, who would believe you? You following me so far?" _

_He nodded fearfully. _

_"Good. The second thing you're going to do is sign custody of Brooke over to her Aunt. You're also going to turn yourself into the police for the child-molesting bastard you are, and you're going to do it without a fight. Lastly, you will speak of what just went on to nobody, you will walk out of this room and do what you have to do to fix the mistake you've been making all those years. There are others out there like me, Jack. I have friends. Understand?"_

"Sonovabitch!" I unintentionally snapped out loud.

However, my outburst went unnoticed because I wasn't the only one that wasn't happy with this arrangement.

"Castello? As in Jack Castello?" Carla asked suspiciously.

"The very same," Kelso nodded.

"Dr. Kelso, I can't believe you!" Carla raged. "You can't possibly be thinking of letting that sick piece of scum work here!"

"I don't think any of you realize just how little money Ted was working for. This is the only lawyer we could find that would work for so little, and not only that, but he's actually a good lawyer. Lucky for us, he killed his career because of that whole pedophile incident," Kelso said, actually smiling.

While we were all worried over the man's history of pedophilia, or in my case, the reaper-related incident I had with him, Kelso was happy over all the money he was saving for a lawyer that's actually good at his job. Out of all the evil things Kelso has done, this really takes the cake!

"I hope he's as good a lawyer as everyone says he is because we're sure going to need that skill when he starts molesting the patients," Dr. Cox said.

Carla nodded in agreement and snapped, "Exactly! I don't trust that pathetic excuse for a man around the patients. I can't believe you're even considering this!"

"I'm not considering it, it's already been decided," he said smugly before frowning at Carla and continuing in a stern tone, "On that note, Mr. Castello has requested that you stay away from him, Nurse Turkleton, and I'm inclined to agree with him."

"But Dr. Kelso-"

"Save it!" he said, holding up his hand. "I will not have you assaulting our new lawyer. You are not to go near Mr. Castello, understand?"

The glare Carla gave him could have vaporized him in a second, but still, she nodded and growled quietly, "Yes, sir."

I was a little surprised that she left it at that. However, even though she agreed not to harass the man, I knew that she would still keep a close eye on him. She cares too much about the patients to not watch over them, and I have no doubt that the rest of the nursing staff will keep an eye on Jack. It reminds me off a pack of wolves looking out for each other, or a pride of lions, or... Hey, that's right! There's a new episode of Meerkat Manor on tomorrow.

With a smirk, Kelso walked away and everyone else grudgingly dispersed to get back to work, but judging by the looks on everyone's faces, I had a feeling that this wasn't over yet. Especially for me. I had to figure out how I was going to deal with this situation and soon.

'_Shit. Shit. Shit._'

Okay, so let's go over the facts. He knows I'm not normal, and I mean that in a 'not human' sense. Not only that, but the last time I saw the man, I had threatened him and, ahem, kinda ripped his soul out of his body... Hey, he deserved it! The guy's an asshole. There are three outcomes I can see happening with this whole thing: One, he'll fear me and I can use that fear to my advantage. Two, he'll blackmail me; he _is_ a lawyer after all. Or three, he'll skip straight past blackmail and expose me to the whole world. If that happened, either he'll end up in a mental hospital, or I'll end up in a lab being experimented on by the government.

_Creepy scientist number one watches me through a one-way window and says, "We've tried shooting it, stabbing it, poisoning it, electrocuting it, burning it, and suffocating it, but still we've yet to figure out how to rid the world of death." _

_Creepy scientist number two looks thoughtful for a moment before exclaiming suddenly, "I've got it! Let's try blowing it up!" _

_Creepy scientist number one squeals with joy and shouts, "Yes! That's perfect! By completely vaporizing it's form, we destroy death! You're a genius!" _

_"Yes, I know," creepy scientist number two says smugly._

Yeah, not my idea of a good time. If I want him to fear me, than I'll have to go to him first and remind him of that fear, otherwise, he might think I'm afraid of him. If that thought gets into his head, then who knows what sort of evil schemes he comes up with. That settles it then. As soon as I check up on Mrs. Sven to get an idea as to how my pneumonia patients are doing, I'll go hunt the jerk down.

"How're you feeling, Mrs. Sven?" I asked kindly.

"Not too great," she groaned, looking a little pale. "Am I supposed to feel nauseous?"

"Don't worry, that's just a side effect of the medicine. Pneumonia takes some time to recover from, so you'll have to be patient," I explained.

She nodded, coughing a bit as I hovered over her, checking her vitals. Hmm, her temperature had risen a bit. I'll have to keep an eye on that. Still, I smiled at her encouragingly before a cough drew my attention to another one of my patients in the bed next to hers.

His name is Shawn Gorvick. He had recently been in a serious car accident and had already undergone a couple of surgeries to fix some broken bones and nerve damage. He still had to have his knee fixed, but other than that, he was recovering quite well after an accident like his.

"Is everything going well for you, Mr. Gorvick?" I asked.

"Dude, I'm nineteen. Enough with all the 'misters', call me Shawn," he said.

"Can do, Shawn," I said smiling, "We're going to hold off on the knee surgery for a bit until we feel you've recovered enough from your other operations. In the mean time, is there anything you need?"

"Good food?"

I laughed, "I'll see what I can do."

He grinned and as I left the room, I could hear him shout, "And none of that healthy crap either!"

While making a mental note to see if I could find something to sneak Shawn that would taste decent but wouldn't make him sick, I set off on my mission to find Jack. It wasn't too difficult to locate him. I was right in my assumption that the nursing staff would be watching him. One small inquiry to a passing nurse on the man's location and I was given exact coordinates. Apparently he was in Tedd's old office, clearing out the space and making himself at home.

I leaned against the doorframe casually and knocked once. Jack gazed over his shoulder curiously, but as soon as he caught site of me, he whipped around, dropped all the papers he had been holding and backed away. Good, the fear was still there. That would save me some time.

As the papers he dropped fluttered to the ground, he held up a hand defensively and said, "I did my time fair and square, okay? You keep your demon hands away from me!"

"And here I was hoping this wouldn't be awkward," I muttered as I closed his office door behind me. After all, I didn't need any spectators.

He grew a shade paler with that move and took another step back. Ignoring his discomfort, I decided to get straight to the point, "I don't like you, Castello."

I'm not sure why I decided to go the whole 'last name' route with him, it just seemed right for the moment.

"In fact, I think you're the person I dislike the most in the hospital. Quite possibly even more than the Janitor," I said before crossing my arms, "Don't let that go to you're head though. The Janitor is a formidable opponent of mine, but you, you're just not worth my time."

His hands shook as he grabbed a letter opener off of his desk and held in in front of himself with a nervous gleam in his eyes.

I sighed, "Look, I've been in this hospital a lot longer than you have, so between the two of us, this is my hospital. What I'm trying to say here, Jack, is that you're going to stay out of my way, get it?"

"Got it." the letter opener was still clutched in his hand.

I gave him a bright smile, "Good."

To prove that he didn't scare me in the least (well, he did just a tiny bit, but I wasn't going to let him know that), I turned my back to him, exposing myself to a possible attack and went to leave. This was the real test to see if the fear was truly still there and that my words had an impact on him. I made it to the door and my hand wrapped around its handle. Hell, I even paused a moment before turning the handle, but Jack Castello remained right where he was, backed up against his desk. He made no movement when I opened the door,. As I stepped out into the hall, my smile turned to a grin and I did a victory dance in my head.

'_And this round goes to JD!_' I mentally cheered.

I wasn't able to walk three steps from Castello's office before I ran right smack into the Janitor. Now it was my turn to look nervous.

He gave me a really stern look as he said, "Hey, I'm watching you." he gestured from his eyes to mine and then back again.

As Dan always told me, whenever worried about the reaper secret getting out, deny, deny, deny.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, giving off my best confused look as I stepped around him and continued on down the hall, shooting the occasional glance over my shoulder as I went.

"Don't forget: My eye. On you!" he shouted.

Seriously, what is _with_ that janitor?

* * *

_I'm ending it here. I know, it has seemed a little slow so far, but it will pick up. Hell, I'm just getting started! One note for all of you: Because I'm not a doctor and there's only so much I can try and figure out online, the medical knowledge of the story won't be up to par. Just bear with me here, people, I'll do the best I can. _

_Anyway, review please!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Greetings readers of fic! Here we go, the next installment of My So-Called Afterlife! Oh, and if it's in italics, that usually means that it's a fantasy of JD's.  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me. She had nothing to offer, so don't bother suing her.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

It was Christmas morning and everything started out good. Carla, Turk, Elliot and I all went out to breakfast to celebrate the holiday since we all had the morning off. I had invited Dr. Cox, but he made it quite clear that he'd rather get his teeth pulled than have to sit around a socialize with all of us. I don't know, maybe I'll ask him if he wants to go have a drink with me later.

Anyway, we had exchanged gifts already, so now we were just sitting back and enjoying the meal. Turk and I had both gotten the pancake plates and were in the process of seeing who could eat the most pancakes when my pager went off. I let out a muffled groan as I pulled out my pager and gazed down at the message. It was from my intern, Keith, and basically all he was telling me was that there was a problem and he needed me to get to the hospital ASAP.

I swallowed my mouthful of pancake and sighed, "I've got to go. Don't know why, I just know that I'm needed. Keith needs to work on his paging skills."

"That's too bad, man," Turk said, but then perked right up, "Hey, can I have your pancakes?"

"Help yourself, Chocolate bear," I said, pushing the plate towards him, however, Carla pulled the plate away before Turk could get at the pancakes.

"You have enough on your own plate," she said frowning, "I don't want your blood sugar skyrocketing."

As Turk pouted and I pulled on my jacket, Elliot's pager then went off. She looked at her pager before muttering a quick, "Frick!" and then looked up at the rest of us and said, "Looks like I'm needed too. I swear, we can't leave those interns alone for a second before they start running around like headless chickens."

"Why don't we just pay for the bill now. I have to get some grocery shopping done anyway," Carla said.

So after paying for the bill, we all went our separate ways; Elliot and I racing off to the hospital while Carla and Turk headed to the grocery store.

Sacred Heart was a mad house when we got there. For one thing, the waiting room was packed full of people, even more so than the usual amount that we had. Some looked pale and feverish, others were coughing, and there were even a few who lay slumped in their chairs unconscious while the person who had probably brought them in sat in the chair next to them with a worried look on their face.

While Elliot went to go find her interns, I met up with Keith since he was the one who originally paged me. He looked extremely relieved when he saw me and raced over to meet me.

A hundred questions flashed through my mind, but the only thing I could think of to ask was, "What's going on?"

"Mr. Gorvick is running a fever and both Mrs. Sven and Mr. Smith suffered respiratory failure. We were able to bring them both back and they're both on ventilators still, but neither has woken up yet," he explained.

I sighed. Mr. Smith was yet another one of my pneumonia patients.

"Mr. Gorvick's fever is probably due to an infection from one of his wounds," I said, "Have you put him on antibiotics?"

"Yes," Keith said.

"Okay, good. Also, collect a sputum sample from Mrs. Sven and send it to the lab. Not one from Mr. Smith though, he has heart problems," I said and Keith nodded before running off to take care of the sample.

Something just didn't feel right about this.

A sharp whistle sounded off from behind me and I whipped around to face Dr. Cox who immediately said, "Newbie! You're clocking in early, change into some scrubs, and then meet me in the waiting room."

He left before I could respond, so with a shrug, I headed to the lockers to change. On my way back to the waiting room, I ran into Elliot. She too was now dressed in scrubs and had also been on her way to the waiting room.

"Some of my patients went into respiratory failure," she told me.

"Pneumonia?" I asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" she asked, looking at me.

I said with a groan, "I'm having the same problem."

When we reached the waiting room, Dr. Cox immediately sent us as well as a bunch of other doctors to work. We went through patient after patient, asking about their symptoms and their situation; trying to find something similar about each of them.

"I've been coughing a whole lot lately," a college student, possibly in her early twenties told me, "I've had difficulty breathing and my temperature's been up. I wasn't too worried until the mucus I've been coughing up started to turn bloody."

I nodded as I wrote down all her symptoms on a chart and asked, "Have you had the flu or any other sort of sickness before this?"

"No, I've been perfectly healthy all year," she said.

"He's been wheezing and coughing for the past day," one worried father told me. "I know that doesn't seem too long to be worrying, but his temperature's been in the 103 range and it hit him so suddenly."

"Has your son been around anyone who's been sick lately?" I asked.

"Not that I know of," he said, thinking back. "Though he could have caught something from someone at his school..."

"I need a gurney over here!" I heard Elliot yell while I had been questioning a women in her sixties about her symptoms. Apparently one of the waiting patients who appeared to be resting her eyes in her chair had actually gone into respiratory failure. I paused in my questioning to watch as they intubated her and raced her off down the hall on the gurney.

As soon as they were out of site, everyone broke out of their stupor and began whispering nervously to each other. However, before panic could arise among the patients that they could be the next one, Dr. Cox called out loudly, "Okay everyone, head check! Look to your neighbor, are they breathing? Are we all good? We're good? Great!"

Just like that, the sudden tension was broken. A few of the people waiting to be admitted chuckled at the comment while the rest of the doctors and I got back to the task of questioning the patients and filling out charts. This continued on for several hours because more patients kept coming in, and the majority of them had the same type of symptoms. The whole thing was dizzying and repetitive; I felt as if I had become trapped in a time paradox.

_I'm leaning against the Nurse's Station filling out charts when suddenly a swirling vortex opens up and out steps... me? What the hell? _

_"JD! I'm you, from the future!" future me exclaims. _

_"I gathered," I say dryly. _

_"I've come to give you some very important information!" he cries out. _

_"Have I always been this dramatic, or is that just something that happens to me later on?" I ask. _

_"Listen closely!" he shouts, ignoring my question. "First! When you meet a woman named Kim, run the other direction! Believe me, there's nothing but unwanted drama and angst down that road. Finally, and most importantly of all, do **not** get the operation to have your head surgically removed from your body!" _

_He pulls down the collar of his shirt to reveal a jagged, red scar circling his neck and I take a step back and wince at the sight of it. _

_Future me nods at my look and says, "Yup, wasn't pretty. Remember my words and all will be well. That said, I must depart!" _

_"But wait!" I shout as he takes a step back to the vortex. "Tell me more about this Kim. Is she hot?" _

_"I can reveal no more for the future consequences could be dire and cause a rip in the time-space continuum, making our universe implode!" he says even more dramatically than before. _

_"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?" I jest. _

_Future me gives me an incredulous look and stutters, "W-what? Weren't you listening? **That's** the worst that could happen!" _

_"Oh please," I scoff, "It can't be **that** bad." _

_"No really, it is," he says. _

_"Just tell me one little thing about her," I plead. _

_"No more talking out of you. Shush. Now, I bid you good day," he says, walking to the vortex. _

_"But future me-" _

_"I said good day!" he shouts as the portal closes around him. _

"I wonder why future me talks so weird," I muttered before shaking my head and saying, "I'd still get the surgery done."

When things finally started to slow down, Elliot, Dr. Cox, and I all met up in the lounge. While Elliot and I sat on the couch, Dr. Cox paced back and forth in front of us and asked, "Okay, what do we know so far."

"They've all been experiencing fevers, coughing, wheezing, and other breathing troubles," I started.

"Also, some have experienced chills, nausea, vomit, and all of them have at some point started coughing up bloody sputum," Elliot added.

"All symptoms point to some sort of pneumonia," I said.

"But far too many people are catching it for it to just be simple pneumonia," Dr. Cox muttered.

"And it's happening really quickly too," Elliot said. "All patients have only been experiencing the symptoms within the last day or two, and many of them weren't even sick before."

"Some recalled coming in contact with other people who were sick while others claim to have not been around any sick people at all," I sighed, "Pneumonia's contagious, but it's not _this_ contagious."

"Maybe not usually, but the virus or bacteria that's causing _these_ particular cases of pneumonia _is,_" Dr. Cox said. "Okay, here's the game plan. We move all the pneumonia patients so that they're grouped together. After all, we don't want to infect any non-pneumonia patients. Have them all hooked up to antibiotics and get several sputum samples while you're at it. Also, be sure to treat any other patient who's been around a pneumonia patient for a prolonged period of time."

'_Shawn... shit._'

Dr. Cox whistled loudly, "We've got a lot of work to do. Barbie, Newbie, move out!"

We all got to work. Both Elliot and I filled our interns in on the plan and they all scurried off to get the job done. Throughout the rest of the day, dozens of patients were shifted around into different rooms. The whole thing reminded me of checkers.

They were all hooked up to antibiotics, even those few who didn't yet have the pneumonia, like Shawn Gorvick. Some where sent off to have chest x-rays done, sputum samples were taken from others, and many had to be set up on oxygen. You would think that with all the work that had to be done, my shift would have flown by, but no, it just seemed to drag on and on. I couldn't have been happier when the last hour rolled around. I was ready to just ride Sasha home, crash into bed, and sleep for a year.

Then I was paged to the Nurse's Station to answer a phone call from a Mr. Dan Dorian.

"You're killing me Dan, you _really_ are," I said, exasperated.

"I'm sorry, Johnny, that someone's death is so inconvenient to you," he said in a mock serious voice.

I paused to bang my forehead against the counter, "You can't be serious."

"Sorry so say, little brother, but we've got yet another job here with your name written all over it," he said with a laugh before suddenly snapping, "Hey, quit eavesdropping, buddy. Eyes forward!"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Huh? Oh, don't worry about that. It's just some guy who can't _mind his own business._ That's right, I'm talking about you!" he growled before turning his attention back to me, "Hey, you got a pen on you, or what?"

Grabbing a post-it and a pen from the Nurse's Station, I mumbled, "Okay, let's hear it."

"G.N. Baker. Apartment number twenty-three. Fifty-six Redstone Avenue. Estimated time of death is 10:15 PM," Dan rattled off.

While I scribbled down the information, I heard a faint beep over the phone followed by a mechanical feminine voice. It sounded a little familiar, but I couldn't place where I've heard it before.

"Dan, what was that?" I asked with a frown.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," he said dismissively.

That immediately made me suspicious. He was hiding something, otherwise he would have just told me what it was. The same noise sounded off again.

"There it is again!" I snapped.

"I don't hear anything," he said innocently, "You're too paranoid sometimes, Johnny. You should work on that. Look, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

He hung up before I could say anything else. I handed the phone back to Lavern who raised an eyebrow at me curiously, but said nothing. I glanced down at the post-it before folding it once and sticking it into my pocket.

'_G.N. Baker,_' I thought then mumbled out loud, "At least it's after my shift."

Two plague cases in a row? That just doesn't happen these days. It doesn't make any sense...

* * *

_That's the end of chapter four. Once again we wonder what Dan's up to.. if he's up to anything at all. U.U;;; _

_Review please! Your comments are like crack to me.. Or sugar. Mmmm, sugar. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Greetings readers of fic! Here's chapter 5 for you of My So-Called Afterlife!_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, so don't bother suing her for she has nothing to offer.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Throughout my entire afterlife, I've never really been thrilled with moonlighting as a reaper, but it's times like these when I really despise my job. I ended my shift and left the hospital without any troubles. I even made pretty good time in getting to the apartment complex of G. N. Baker. It was around 10:10 when I knocked on his or her door, just five minutes before the estimated time of death. That's when things started going downhill, for the person to respond to my knocks was a young child.

Honestly, I had been expecting an elderly person of some sort, or at least someone who lived alone. Well, more hoping for it than expecting it. However, when you're employed into the reaper business, it's an inevitable fact that at some point you'll end up having to tear apart families and separate loved ones.

"Who is it?" the voice of a little girl called through the door.

Damn, and I bet she's cute too.

"Dr. Donovan," I replied, using my real last name.

It's usually not a good idea to use your alias while on the job. It gives people a way to find you if they wanted to and could lead to unwanted confrontations in the future.

"Can I talk to your parents?" I asked.

"I don't know who you are and I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said.

Smart girl.

"It's okay, I'm a doctor. I was called over because someone in your home is sick," I explained.

If someone was in the end stages of the plague, then it would be obvious, even to a little kid, that that person was sick.

"Mommy hasn't been feeling well," she admitted before adding a tad suspiciously, "But Daddy didn't say a doctor was coming over."

"Is your last name Baker?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"And your mother's first name? I don't exactly remember; It starts with a 'G'?" I asked while glancing at my watch. I had just a minute left.

"Ginny," she said, sounding more convinced by my story.

"Well, your daddy might not have had the time to tell you that I was coming over," I explained as convincingly as I could.

She went quiet for a while and for a moment, I was worried that she left. I looked nervously at my watch again, just seconds left before she should pass.

"Okay," she chirped.

There was a click as the door unlocked and it creaked on its hinges as it opened. In the doorway stood a little girl, around eight it looked like, with brown hair, big blue eyes, and a scruffy pink dress. I was right, she was absolutely adorable.

'_Damn._'

"So, where's your mommy?" I asked.

She gave me a bright smile before leading the way. A quick glance around the apartment told me that these people didn't have a whole lot of money, which was probably why the mother wasn't able to get the proper medical help for a disease that's completely curable these days. The furniture looked worn down, the paint was chipping, the carpet was old, and over all, the place was pretty small. It did smell nice though; a flowery, springtime scent.

We stopped in front of a bedroom door when the little girl looked up at me and whispered, "We got to be quiet. Mommy's resting."

I mentally cringed and couldn't help but feel a little guilty. This girl had let me into her home expecting me to help her mom feel better and I was here to do the exact opposite. Resting... right.

The mother lay twisted up among the bed sheets of a queen-sized bed. She looked pale and feverish, and the bangs of her brown hair were stuck to her forehead with sweat. I couldn't see any visible buboes, so it probably wasn't the bubonic plague. It could however be the septicemic plague which is when the plague bacteria multiplies in the bloodstream. All it would really take is one bite from a flea carrying the bacteria.

The little girl watched me closely as I approached the women's bed, as if she expected me to just wave my hand and magically heal her mom. I could practically feel her big blue eyes boring into my back.

"Where's your daddy?" I asked.

"At work," she said simply.

"Do you know his work number?" she nodded to my question. "Why don't you go call him and tell him to come home."

She tilted her head to the side and asked, "Why?"

Why? Because I can't exactly stick around once I release this woman's soul and I don't want to leave her here alone with her dead mother. God, this is such a horrible situation. I hate it when kids are involved, whether it be when I'm a doctor or a reaper, it's usually never a good situation when there's a kid involved. For God's sake, why couldn't these people just go to a free clinic when they started feeling bad? This isn't the dark ages, it's the twenty-first century. The plague shouldn't be a problem anymore!

"While I'm sure you're taking really good care of your mom, there are some grownup things I need your dad to handle," I explained while remaining as vague as I possibly could.

She shrugged and excepted the answer before running off to make the call. Once she was out of the bedroom door, I turned back to the woman and felt for a pulse. It was there, just barely there, and fading as the seconds ticked by. I brushed my hand down her arm, again briefly leaving behind an after-glow.

Her soul rose up from her body and with a yawn, she stretched for a moment before calmly looking around her room. However, her serene attitude vanished as soon as she set her eyes on me. She swung her legs around and stood up from her bed, not even aware that she had left her body behind.

Giving me a stern look, she snapped, "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

I simply gestured to her body that lay still on the bed behind her. She spun around before letting out a shocked gasp, her eyes going wide as she shook her head in denial.

She whispered disbelievingly, "No... _No._ It was just the flu." she turned back to me, "Do you hear me? The flu! I'm _fine_."

"I'm sorry," I finally said solemnly.

"No!" she cried. "You have the wrong person! Go and check your list again because there's been a mistake."

"Ginny, you're name is Ginny, right?" I asked and she nodded hesitantly. "What's your middle name, Ginny?"

"Nancy," she quietly admitted.

"Ginny Nancy Baker," I said, reading off the post-it note I had pulled out of my pocket, "Yup, I have the right person."

She ripped the small, yellow piece of paper out of my hand and there was a moment of silence as she read over the information. When she looked back up at me, her eyes shone with barely restrained tears and she said brokenly, "I have a family. I can't be dead."

It was at that point that her daughter came walking into the room with the phone in hand. She glanced over at her mother still laying on the bed before holding up the phone and whispering, "Daddy wants to talk to you and then I'm supposed to go to the neighbors."

I took the phone from her hand and smiled at her while Ginny kneeled down in front of her and said sadly, "Lizzy, are you okay?" she shot me a nasty glare before reaching her arms out to Lizzy. However, instead of pulling the girl into a hug like she had intended, she fazed right through her. A tear trailed down her face as she called out, "Lizzy! Elizabeth, can you hear me?"

"Take care of Mommy, kay?" Elizabeth said, completely oblivious to her mother's soul in front of her.

I nodded and the little girl smiled at me before walking out the bedroom door.

"No, Lizzy, Mommy's right here," Ginny called after her desperately, "Elizabeth!"

The door to the apartment clicked closed, signally the little girl leaving, and as her mother curled up on the floor and hid her face in her hands, I turned from the scene and held the phone to my ear, "Hello?"

"I never called a doctor, who the hell is this?" came the angry voice of who I can only assume is the father.

"This is Dr. Donovan, you're wife called me over because she wasn't feeling well," I explained.

"You're lying," he snapped. "You told my daughter that I called you."

Damn, he caught me. See, this is why I didn't use my alias. The man's obviously pissed and suspicious about my motives, and once he comes home and finds out the fate of his wife, he's going to be even more angry. Thankfully though, I'll be long gone by the time he gets home and there's really no way for him to locate me since Dr. Donovan doesn't exist in any hospitals around here.

"Minor details aside, sir, there's a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you," I began, but was quickly interrupted.

"If you hurt my family, I swear to God I'll-"

"Believe it or not, but I really am a doctor. I'm sure you've noticed that your wife's been sick recently," his silence only confirmed what I already knew, "She had the plague, Sir. I'm so sorry, but it was too late for me to do anything."

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"You should come home as soon as you can," I told him. "Your daughter will need you."

I hung up the phone before he could respond and a quiet inquiry drew my attention back to the distraught mother sitting on the floor.

"Plague?"

"Yes," I confirmed, "It's rare, but it happens."

"So what now?" she asked, her gaze drifting up to me as if I held all the answers.

"As cheesy as it sounds, you go into the light," I said dryly then held out my hand to her, "Come on."

She stared at me for a moment as if I might bite her before hesitantly taking my hand. As I pulled her up and led her out the bedroom door, she glanced over her shoulder one last time at the lifeless body on the bed. I pretended I didn't notice the tears in her eyes as we walked down the hallway, passing by photos of past memories, and when I closed the door behind us of what was once her apartment, I acted like I hadn't heard her miserable sniffling.

* * *

Soon after exiting the elevator of the apartment complex, Ginny's light had appeared in the form of a waterfall. I couldn't have been more relieved because as soon as she laid eyes on the rushing streams of iridescent light, all of her depression seemed to vanish and was replaced with a look of blissful amazement. 

It was a little after eleven by the time I got back home and both Carla and Turk were already in bed. After a long day of work at Sacred Heart closely followed by a reap, sleep became the only thing on my mind. I barely even took the time to change out of my scrubs before crashing face first on my bed and becoming, well, _dead_ to the world.

* * *

Every reaper has his or her own way of dealing with the stress of the job. You know, coping with the fact that for the rest of our afterlife, or at least until we fill our quota, we have to go around pulling souls out of the dead and dying and send them off to those pretty lights while we can only sit back and watch. Having sex, doing drugs, or getting into fights are just a few of the many ways we may unwind. It's sort of like having a hobby. An unusual hobby that the living would probably find odd. 

I once met a reaper who took pictures of everyone she reaped before they died.

I, on the other hand, collect obituaries. I had been collecting them since around 1904. Barbara, the motherly reaper of my group, had suggested it as a way to distract myself from my post-death grief. Since that year, I've collected every obituary of every soul I've reaped. That's why I had asked to write Mr. Bengal's. Since he was the last in his family, I knew that there wouldn't be anyone to write it and since I've been following through on this tradition of mine for so long, it just felt wrong to not have one for him.

Which leads me to the reason why I was skimming through the obituaries this morning with a pair of scissors in hand. I had mailed in the information about Peter Bengal during my lunch break the day that Castello first made his reappearance at the hospital.

'_Ah-ha! There his is: Peter R. Bengal,_' I thought triumphantly with a snip-snip of my scissors.

"JD, are you almost ready?" Carla asked while putting on a pair of black earrings.

"Yeah!" I said, already dressed in my funeral clothes.

She came up behind me and asked in a curious tone, "What are you doing?"

"_Nothing_," I muttered innocently while folding up the obituary before she could get a good look at it.

"Baby, there are three things I've learnt not to discuss with people: Religion, politics, and JD's weird thing with the obituaries," Turk stated as he adjusted his tie.

Carla shrugged and walked away from me to go grab her purse, calling over her shoulder at me, "Come on! We don't want to be late."

Ted's funeral was today and Kelso let anyone who was attending have the time off. Of course, because Carla and Turk had already had yesterday off, they were being called in afterwards. The hospital usually wasn't so strict on scheduling, but because of the sudden rise in sickness, every bit of help was needed. I thankfully didn't have to go in at all today which would leave me with some relaxing time after the funeral.

Thanks to Carla's pestering, we arrived there on time, and surprisingly enough, there were more people there than I though there would be. It was held in a small church. There was nothing too fancy about it. Simply an urn on a pedestal with a picture of Ted to one side of it and a small floral arrangement to its other side.

We took a seat in the pews along with a couple other people from the hospital. There was Doug, Ted's a cappella group, The Todd, Lloyd, Laverne, and-

'_The Janitor._'

Okay, no problems there. Just avoid eye-contact and you'll be fine.

There was also a few people I didn't recognize. Possibly family?

Anyway, overall the service was pretty okay, and the rumor going around (according to Lavern) was that Kelso was the one that paid for the whole thing.

"Don't look too surprised," Lavern said, shaking her head, "Cremation is the cheapest way to go when it comes to a funeral."

Well, that partially explained some things, though why Kelso paid for anything at all was still a mystery. My best guess is that maybe he was feeling just a tad bit guilty and a little responsible for the whole thing. After all, he wasn't really that nice to Ted when he was alive.

"It's a possibility," Carla said, though she didn't sound too convinced.

Ted's a cappella group not only hummed the funeral tune during the service, but also sang a few songs that apparently had meant something to their friend. Then a priest came out and did his little spiel: he's in a better place, something about God, so on and so forth. A couple people even got up and said a few words about him.

"He may not have been the best lawyer, but when it came down to it, he got the job done... sometimes."

Though I wondered _why_ some people got up and said a few word. Hell, I could have come up with something better than that.

"He was a very important member of my brain trust. He will be missed."

I'm not quite sure what that one was about, but I'm sure it held some deeper meaning for a few of the people sitting around me nodded solemnly.

It was around noon when the ceremony ended and those who didn't need to go to work had lunch in mind, myself included. I know I should have been a bit more saddened by the whole thing, but give me a break, people. Not only was I not extremely close to the guy, but when you've been around as long as I have, you've seen so many funerals that they've started to lose meaning. It's sort of like saying a word over and over again. Eventually it stops sounding like an actual word.

"We'll see you later on, Vanilla Bear," Turk said, patting me on the shoulder.

"You going to be alright?" Carla asked, probably thinking I'd be a little depressed over the funeral.

"Yeah," I nodded.

She smiled at me, "Hey, enjoy your day off. Relax, okay?"

"No problems there," I said with a grin.

With that said, they left to the hospital while I headed back home on Sasha. Man, I really need this day off. First I'm going to stuff my face; there's always plenty of good food after Carla goes grocery shopping. Then I'm going to watch TV, lots of it, and finally comes sleep. Yup, it's going to be a very productive day.

I pulled out my apartment keys as I approached the door when I noticed it had been left open just a crack. Who left it open? ...Wait, I specifically remember locking the door behind me. Then that could only mean..

"Someone broke in," I whispered as I cautiously neared the door.

Okay, remain calm. I'm already dead, so there's really nothing more they could do to me. Still, I needed a weapon. It would just be stupid to go in there with no form of defense. Well, I could always rip their soul out of their body to stun them, but I really don't think that would be a good idea. Not only could it be a possible risk of exposure, but you only really get to do that once and get away with it. It's like speeding, you can only get so many warnings before you get a ticket. In this case, you only get one warning to not do that again and if you don't listen to that warning, there will be consequences in the end. However, I have no idea what those consequences are because I've never met a reaper who's done it more than once.

Back to my current dilemma: a weapon. Hmmm... Wait, my shoe! It's not great, but it should work.

I listened closely at the door and could hear a bit of shuffling around inside. Whoever had broken in hadn't left yet. So with one hand on the door and the other holding my shoe, I slammed the door open, ready to face my opponent. I raised my shoe into the air, awaiting the right moment to strike down the intruder. Hopefully my sudden entrance would give me the advantage of surprise.

"You've messed with the wrong-"

I froze.

_'What?_'

I blinked, confused.

"Dan?"

* * *

_End of Chapter 5! Hope you're all enjoying it so far. Oh, some good news for you all. First of all, I'm out of school for the summer, so aside from work, I should have more time to write if I choose to do so. _

_Second of all, I've finally come up with the ending for this series. Yeah, you didn't know I was having plotting problems, but I was. I've figured it out thought. However, never fear, the ending is a ways away. It's like (counting on fingers) about four other stories away, and I'm not counting this one. _

_Anyway, you've read it, so review it please. Like it? Hate it? Tell me what you think. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Greetings readers of fic! Yet another chapter from me to you, and because I'm sure you're all wondering what Dan's doing there, I'll just get straight to the point._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Dan's gaze traveled from the shoe in my hand back down to me and said in an amused tone, "I'd hate to see what the rest of your plan was."

I closed the door behind me and put down my shoe while asking, "Dan, what are you doing here? _How_ did you get in here? I locked the door."

"Oh please, your home isn't exactly the most secure place in the world," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I could pick that lock in my sleep."

He has a point there. Dan's pretty good at getting past almost any security feature and I have yet to find a lock he couldn't pick. Of course, there was that one time with secret service a couple decades back, but I'm getting off course.

"You still do this?" Dan asked, looking over the obituary I cut out this morning.

"Yeah, so?" I said a bit defensively.

He smiled and shook his head, "Whatever keeps you sane, Joey."

He began shuffling through the cabinets, pulling random things out, looking at them, and then putting them back. I don't believe this, he breaks in, mocks my hobby (he didn't directly insult it, but the tone was there), and now he's raiding the cabinet for food.

"It's 'John', and you never answered my question," I said.

"What question?" he mumbled, not really paying attention.

I huffed, annoyed, and repeated myself, "What are you doing here?"

"I can't believe you have this stuff," he laughed, dodging the question, and pulled out can of anti-bacterial spray that went by the name of _Azrael._

"You're stalling," I stated.

"Oh, come on _Johnny!_" he said, then continued on in a deep voice that sounded very similar to the voice that always narrates movie trailers, "Azrael's back, and this time he's after germs. Now available in several different fresh scents!"

It _was_ a pretty ridiculous commercial, but then again, so were half of the commercials out there.

"Kinda making a mockery of us, huh?" Dan said in his normal voice, waving the spray can in my face.

Irritated by his antics, I snatched the can out of his hand, ignoring his protests of, "Hey, don't grab." and chucked the stupid thing in the trash.

"There, it's gone, now tell me why you came here and broke into my apartment," I demanded, "It couldn't have just been to annoy me."

"You never know. You _are_ really fun to annoy," Dan pointed out.

"Dan!"

"Mom wanted me to come!" he blurted out.

"Why would Mom want you to come here?" I asked, bewildered.

_Mom_ was actually Barbara. She wasn't really our mother, just like how we aren't really brothers. She's just the motherly figure of our happy little group, but not in a Carol Brady sort-of-way. It's more like Roseanne meets Lois from Malcolm in the Middle. She makes sure we follow through on our reaping responsibilities and makes sure we don't break any important rules or get into any trouble (she doesn't know about the whole Castello thing, and she never will know if I have anything to say about it). When it's really important, I know I can usually go to her for help. That's why we call her Mom. It had started out as a funny nickname, but it ended up sticking.

However, besides being the mom of our group, she's also the leader. She had taken over as head reaper when Sam (Dad) finished his quota and was promoted a couple years back. So if she wanted Dan to come see me, it was for a good reason.

"Well, you weren't the only one in the plague division getting reaps," he began and I felt a sort of ominous feeling overcome the whole apartment; like the calm before a storm. "I got one, Mom got one, even Nana Hobbs got one."

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to really say.

"It doesn't stop there. Across the country, other reapers in the plague division have reported getting cases. Mom had suspected something, so she got me a plane ticket to come out here and meet up with you," he explained.

So that's what the noise I heard over the phone was. He was calling me from on the plane and the beep followed by the weird voice was probably a flight attendant or the captain sending a message over the intercom to the passengers.

"Suspected... What?" I asked quietly, afraid to know the answer.

"We weren't really sure at first, but Mom wanted me to come here anyway. You know, as a precaution in case it was something you'd need help with, _and_" he paused for a moment to take a seat on the couch. I stared at him, waiting, when finally he said, "She was right. _As usual_."

As he fished through his pockets, he said, "She called me this morning with a message."

I sat down across from him on the coffee table and watched as he pulled out a small stack of post-its. Yes, that's right, a stack. Not just one or two, but a _stack._

He gazed down at the yellow pieces of paper for a moment before hesitantly saying, "Umm... these are all for you."

I took the stack from him and nervously read over the information of the first post-it.

_T. R. Grennal  
Sacred Heart Hospital  
Room 302  
E.T.D. 1:17PM_

'_W-what? ...Someone at Sacred Heart?_'

I flipped to the next one.

_A. L. Sven  
Sacred Heart Hospital  
Room 114  
E.T.D. 1:42PM_

"No," I mumbled, "Mrs. Sven."

I flipped to the one after that.

_J. F. Smith  
Sacred Heart Hospital  
Room 120  
E.T.D. 2:04PM_

And the one after that.

_V. D. McGarth  
Sacred Heart Hospital_

And then the next.

_ P. M. Goodwin  
Sacred Heart Hospital_

Oh god. Are they all like this?

_Sacred Heart Hospital _

_Sacred Heart Hospital_

The post-it notes just went on like that. Every single one of them took place at Sacred Heart. I was so stunned by it all, I didn't really know what to say.

"What does this all mean?" I asked fearfully, and though I already had a pretty good idea on what was occurring, I needed Dan to confirm it. I wanted so badly for this to not be real; a part of me hoped that he would tell me it meant nothing.

However, the serious look he gave me said it all, "You know what it means, Joey. They're all at your hospital, you've been around these people, why don't you tell me what it means."

Dr. Diagnosis immediately took over as I ran through my head everything I had seen the past few days. Out of the two people I had already reaped, neither of them had any visible buboes, so it most likely wasn't the bubonic plague with them. However, now that there's all these other people to compare symptoms with, one thing stood out in my mind. The distinctive symptom that they all had in common: signs of pneumonia. The coughing, the difficulty breathing, the bloody sputum, it could only mean one thing...

"Pneumonic plague," I breathed, then buried my face in my hands with a groan, "It's the most contagious type, no wonder so many people are getting it. People can catch it simply by coughing on each other. Not only that, but it's the most deadly type too."

There's just one thing that didn't make sense in all of this. Just _how_ did this actually all happen? While pneumonic plague may be the most deadly and contagious type, it's also the least common form of the plague. It would be understandable if just a few people got it, but we're talking about over dozens of people here, and if what Dan said is true, than it's not just here, it's happening all over the country.

Dan took in my grim expression and nodded, "Yup, looks like we're facing an epidemic."

"...Damn."

* * *

"We sure haven't done this in a while," I mused as I sat next to Dan in his rental car with Sasha in the trunk. 

"Nope," he agreed, "Not since that last epidemic that you died in."

"Yeah, _good times,_" I mumbled sarcastically.

Dan grinned and shook his head with a chuckle.

"So what's our game plan?" I asked him.

As I had said before, it'd been a while since we've had so many reaps in a single day, and when you're dealing with this many confused souls, it's possible that there could be a panic among them. The last thing we need is a bunch of spirits freaking out and running around the hospital.

"There will be a lot of your co-workers swarming around, trying to revive these people, so we need to be quick about it. We'll pop the souls in advance so we'll have enough time to get them out of the room before all the commotion starts," Dan explained.

In case you're wondering, 'popping a soul' is basically reaper slang for releasing a person's soul from their body, but you probably already guessed that.

Dan continued nonchalantly, "After that, we should take them somewhere that's sort of away from the living."

"The roof should work," I said, then added, "It's nice enough up there that it might encourage them to pass on."

"The roof is good," he said as we pulled into the hospital parking lot, "Well, let's get started."

He threw me a reassuring smile before we entered the hospital and split up. One of the good things (good for me) about reaping in a hospital is that everyone's always easy to locate. They're listed in the computer, their name is next to the door of their room, and their name is written on their chart attached to their bed. So there's never any complications when it comes to finding each person.

I was able to slip in and out of each room completely unnoticed by everyone around me. It's one of the perks of being a reaper. I'm not saying I can turn invisible or anything, it's just that when you're on the job, you become just another face in the crowd. Even Dr. Cox walked by me without noticing that I was there. As for the patients, they were all too out of it to notice my presence, but I think that's for the best. Terminally ill patients have been known to recognize a reaper.

Just as I had finished popping the last soul on my list, that's when all the alarms started going off. It started in one room and doctors and nurses nearby went running to help. As they struggled to revive the doomed Mr. Grennal, that's when his soul appeared next to me.

He looked from his body back to me and as I took him by the arm and led him away, he stuttered, "W-wait! Is that me?"

I kept on a calm and neutral expression as I headed to the roof and said, "Everything will be okay, Mr. Grennal. We'll explain things in just a moment."

When we reached the roof, Dan was already up there with a the soul of a women in her mid-twenties. I left Mr. Grennal in his hands before heading back, and by the time I got back down, two more monitors were going off. It was like some sort of twisted chorus that everyone was running around to. I grabbed the two souls as soon as they appeared and herded them up to the roof. That made four people so far, and since I had some time before the next person died, Dan went down to collect all of his wayward souls while I watched the ones on the roof

It was all going good so far, nobody had started panicking yet. Actually, everyone seemed to be pretty okay with their current situation. I guess the fact that they were all in the same boat gave them all something to talk about and bond over. It was sort of therapeutic for them.

Dan soon returned with two more people which gave me the chance to go and collect the next batch. We switched back and forth like that until everyone had been taken care of for the day. In the end, we had nineteen confused people milling about on the roof.

Dan moved to the center of the crowd and shouted, "Attention! Attention everyone! I know you're all tired and confused; you've all had a long day. Now, if you all cooperate, we can get you to where you need to go."

Dan may appear to always be the laid-back, devil-may-care, screw-up of our group, but shockingly enough, he gets right down to business and can be serious when it really counts.

"Are there any questions?" he inquired loudly.

"Yeah, what happened to us all?" one man asked, and everyone nodded and voiced their agreement with the question.

Dan seemed to consider his answer for a moment before finally saying, "I'm gonna give it to you all straight: You've all died. There's been an outbreak of the pneumonic plague and unfortunately, you were all the first to be infected by it."

"So there's _actually_ an afterlife?" one women asked, shocked.

"Hey, if there wasn't, would you all be here?" Dan pointed out with a charming smile.

"Does that mean there's a God?" another woman asked.

"You're not God, are you?" a man to her left asked sceptically.

Dan laughed in good nature and said, "Nope, I'm just your friendly neighborhood grim reaper, not God. I try though. As for whether of not there _is_ a God, well, that's for you to figure out because believe it or not, you haven't actually reached the afterlife yet."

Suddenly a rainbow of lights rained down from the sky and formed an ocean spreading as far as the eye can see, the hospital roof a miniscule piece of driftwood in comparison to it. Surrounding the roof, off in the distance, were several different islands, each looking like some form of paradise depending upon personal preference. Everyone stepped away from Dan and cautiously approached the edge of the roof.

As they all gazed apprehensively at each island like unsure, little children, Dan and I walked up behind them and Dan said with a smile, "Your light is here to take you away."

"It's time for you to move on," I said, nodding.

"Which one do we go to?" one of them asked nervously.

"Go to the one that looks right to you," I said confidently.

After a moments hesitation, they all stepped off the roof and into the ankle-deep ocean water. None of them looked back as they waded through the water, each heading toward a different island. Once they were all a good distance away from the roof, the lights disappeared, taking the people with it.

After all the lights had faded, Dan and I stared out at the usual surroundings of the hospital in silence.

"Pretty," Dan commented after a moment, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I agreed, "It always is."

Dan turned to me and said with an amused glint in his eye, "Don't you have something doctor-ish to do?"

Oh crap, he's right!

I ran off without giving him a response.

* * *

Dr. Cox was the first one I went to with the news on the illness that was still currently infecting many of the patients in the hospital. He was slouched down on the couch of the lounge, watching a news report on the TV. 

"Across America, hundreds are falling ill, but doctors have yet to find out why and with what," a hot newswomen reported.

"Dr. Cox!" I shouted urgently, drawing his attention away from the TV.

"You better have a damn good reason for bothering me, Newbie, and on _your_ day off, because I have had a hell of a day and I am _so_ not in the mood to hear about your girl problems no matter how painful the cramps are or how it ruined your date with that geeky guy who was in chess club during high school," Dr. Cox snapped, "Do you know how many patients we lost today, Mary Jane? Do you?"

'_Nineteen._'

"Nineteen!" he snarled, "Nineteen patients keeled over and the reason why just, it just baffles us all. So tell me Ginger, just _what_ is your reason for bothering me today?"

"I know why they're sick!" I cried, "It's the plague! The pneumonic plague!"

He jumped up from his seat and clapped a hand over my mouth. It wasn't the reaction I was expecting. I was expecting his face to light up with realization, hell, I was expecting him to not believe me, tell me it's a stupid diagnosis, and call me a girl's name, but I definitely wasn't expecting this.

"What have I told you about zebras, Newbie?" he hissed at me, but didn't remove his hand to let me respond. "Do you know what a diagnosis like that would do? Please tell me, Dory, that you haven't told anyone else about this ridiculous theory of yours!"

Okay, so I was half right in my expectations.

"No, you're the first person I've told," I assured him once he removed his hand.

"Attention all staff, visitors, and patients alike," Dr. Kelso's voice suddenly sounded off over the intercom. "In light of recent events and due to some news I have just received, the hospital is in quarantine effective immediately. No one is aloud to leave the building until further notice. Have a nice day."

"Then again, someone could have overheard me," I laughed sheepishly.

Dr. Cox, of course, was not amused.

* * *

Yay! Done with chapter six. The story's slowly moving along. Thank you everyone for your awesome reviews! I'm glad you like it so far. :) Now, to answer a question: there will be revelations bit by bit, and if I decide to continue down the path I'm plotting, there will be a hell of a revelation in the last fic of the series. 

Anyway, you've read it, so review it please!


	7. Chapter 7

_Greetings readers of fic. Glad you liked the last chapter! If you haven't seen it, you all should check out Dead Like Me. Truly an awesome show. Unfortunately, it was canceled awhile back, but they do have the series on DVD. Ahem, moving on... Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. Virtual hugs all around! There's more where that came from and the plague is just the beginning. That said, on with chapter seven!_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, but we're pretty sure everyone already knew that.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Dr. Cox was so mad that his anger was palpable. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if someone were to walk into the room, taste the air and say, "Wow, someone is really pissed."

"Newbie," Dr. Cox snapped, looking about ready to rip out his own hair, "Because you came in here shrieking like a frightened little girl about how we're all facing the next plague moments before the quarantine was issued, I will be holding you personally responsible for said quarantine."

That wasn't too surprising. What occurred was either a horribly timed coincidence, or Kelso has ears like a bat. Not that it really mattered because either way, I knew Dr. Cox would blame me.

He cleared his throat before growling, "I was just two hours away from ending my shift. You couldn't have waited _two hours_ before spouting off all this nonsense?"

"But it's true!" I protested, "These people really are sick with the plague and we need to treat them all for it before it gets any worse."

"Gladis, do you know the odds of someone getting the pneumonic plague, let alone this many people?" Dr. Cox said, crossing his arms.

"I realize how strange it is and while I don't know why it's happening, I do know that it _is_ happening," I insisted.

"Well, since you seem to think you know what's best, as soon as my shift ends, you will be taking all of my patients for me," he said with a happy, yet evil smile. "However, in the mean-time, you get to go around and tell all the families of all the deceased that their loved one has bought the farm. Aren't you the lucky one?"

He picked up a rather large stack of charts off the table and dumped them into my reluctant hands. Then, patting me on the shoulder (though it felt more like hitting), he flashed me a big grin and said, "Here are their charts. Have fun."

He quickly left the room, leaving me stuck with six charts of six dead patients out of the total nineteen. That meant six distraught families and six times I would have to be the bearer of bad news. Why the hell do I let Dr. Cox talk me into these things?

The first family is the McGarth family. Their daughter, Valerie, was one of my reaps. I've done this several times before, so I should have no problem doing it six more times. I just had to track these people down, put on an expressionless face, and explain in a tone that is a mix between solemn and sad about how 'Valerie was very sick, and we did all we could, and we're sorry for your loss.' Yeah, see, it's as easy as that. I can do this...

"Mr. and Mrs. McGarth?"

* * *

"I don't understand," a middle aged woman cried. "You told me it was just pneumonia!" 

Wow, breaking the bad news once, maybe even twice in a single day was one thing, but _six time?!_ Granted, I had to notify two families over the phone, but the other four I had to tell in person, and four families, one right after the other, was a lot. I was about ready to knock myself upside the head with a metal baseball bat. Not that it would do anything... _Stupid reaper metabolism._

"There were complications," I said and then went on to explain that all her husband's symptoms gave off the appearance of pneumonia, but it could actually have been something more serious, however, we can't be sure of the exact cause until we run some more tests.

I didn't tell any of the families the full truth for two reasons. The first reason was because, while I knew what the cause was, I didn't have any legitimate proof to back up my whole plague theory. I wouldn't really call it a 'theory' though, since I _knew_ that's what it is. The second reason was because I wouldn't want people to start panicking and spread the news like wildfire.

_"We're all going to die!" one man screamed and in response, everyone around him began breaking into stores and looting._

So maybe that's a little exaggerated, but still, anything close to that is something I want to avoid.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I finally said and left the room as quickly as I could without looking like I was trying to make a run for it.

I sighed in relief once I was out in the hall. That was the last person I had to notify for today. I always hated having to give out that sort of news to people (then again, who didn't?), but today I learned that it's ten times worse when you're the one who reaped the person in the first place. You see, until these last couple of days, I never actually had to be the one to tell the family of my reap that their loved one has passed. Because I wasn't a doctor when I first died, I was very uninvolved in the lives and deaths of all my reaps during my first epidemic. It was always like: I'm in, I'm out, the soul has moved on to the afterlife, and everyone's relatively happy.

Everything is different now. I felt like every person I went to today knew what I was. Their accusatory looks couldn't have all been in my mind, right? Even after all these years, I still sometimes feel partially responsible for their deaths. However, I knew that wasn't the case, and this wouldn't be the first, or last time I'd have to remind myself of that fact. I was just a transporter; ferrying souls to the afterlife. It wasn't for me to say who lives and who dies.

"I think you could have handled that better," Dan said, popping up out of nowhere and pulling me from my thoughts.

"Oh, really?" I mumbled.

"Yes, really. Seriously, Johnny, '_Your husband's dead, I'm sorry for your loss.'_?" he said with a poor imitation of my voice and shook his head disapprovingly.

I huffed, offended, and said, "I said other things too, and I had to tell five other families the same thing. I'm all outta words of comfort for the day!" I crossed my arms and scoffed, "I'd like to see you come up with something better."

Dan threw me a smug look and said in a know-it-all tone, "You have to ease them into the situation, not throw it at them all at once. First, you tell them that 'Hey, Grandma's on the roof, and we can't get her down, but we'll keep you posted.' Then, after a couple days of grandma being on the roof, you finally tell them, 'I have bad news. Grandma fell off the roof.' That way, you wean them off of life with grandma."

I laughed humorlessly and stated, "You are insane."

"Yeah, and you're right up there with me," he said, sticking his tongue out at me.

"Very mature," I muttered dryly.

"I thought so."

Dan suddenly leapt into the nearest room like some sort of secret agent and ducked down so that he was completely out of sight. The whole thing looked rather ridiculous and just as I was about to ask what the hell he was doing, Dr. Cox walked up next to me with a stack of charts in hand.

"My shift is officially over," he said cheerfully as he dropped the charts into my hands. "Have fun Newbie. For the duration of my time off, I will be attempting to get as much rest and relaxation as I can, so you better not page me. You got that? Not once. Oh, and make sure no more people die."

He stalked off in the direction of the staff lounge before I could get a word out. Once he was completely out of seeing and hearing range, Dan appeared from his hiding spot and walked over to me as if nothing had interrupted our brotherly bickering.

I, however, couldn't let it go as easily as he did, "What was all that about?"

"Are you kidding me? I don't want to be stuck in this quarantine too," he said. "That's why I'm staying out of sight of anyone who would actually recognize me."

"Oh," I said; it made sense. "Why don't you just leave before you're spotted?"

"I plan to," he said. "I just had to tell you before I sneak out that all the plaguies in the area are having a huge meeting tomorrow, so you need to find a way to get out of here."

Ah, 'plaguies'. It was a nickname Dan, myself, and a couple of our reaper friends had come up with awhile back to describe reapers in the plague division. That was a fun night...

"What time is it at?" I asked.

"It starts around noon, but we'll need to leave before then," he explained.

I nodded, "I'll try and speed up the hospital's diagnosis. Hopefully that'll end the quarantine."

"Good luck with that," he said, patting me on the shoulder, "and give me a call in the morning so I'll know if you can come."

"Sure."

Dan smiled at me and gave me the two-finger salute before ducking into an empty patient's room. I watched as he opened up the window and peered outside. Then after a moment, when (I assume) the coast was clear, he jumped right out the window without any hesitation at all. I could hear the dull thud coming from outside followed by a faint whine, "Okay, that hurt." However, I wasn't really concerned and felt no need to check on him when I knew that reaper metabolism would have him up and walking in a matter of minutes. Besides, I had work to do.

* * *

While I knew that Dr. Cox didn't believe me about the whole plague epidemic, I decided to go behind his back anyway and put all of his patients (as well as my own patients) on streptomycin, the most effective antibiotic against the plague. To be perfectly fair, he did hand me all of his charts and told me to make sure nobody else dies, so in a way, I _am_ just following his orders. Besides, I've been his protege for a couple years and I would hope that by now he'd know I'd pull something like this. 

Once I had all of that taken care of, I headed down to the lab to see how their progress was coming in diagnosis this disease.

"What the hell is taking you guys so long? Nineteen people have died so far from this!" I said as I waltzed into the lab and they glared at me in response.

Okay, so I could have worded that a bit nicer, but really now, I gave them those sputum samples almost two days ago. You'd think they could have identified Yersinia pestis by now!

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you waiting for the results on just what is infecting all those people?" the bacteriologist who went by the name of George asked sarcastically, then laughed, "I wasn't aware finding out that information had become top priority. After all, it's not like you're the _fifth_ doctor to come down here and ask about it!"

George was maaa-aaaad.

"All of their symptoms point toward pneumonic plague," I explained, "So I'm ninety-nine percent sure that it's Y. pestis."

Ha! I'm _one-hundred_ percent sure.

"Couldn't you guys please just confirm that one percent?" I asked, flashing them my best, pleading smile.

"Thank you _almighty doctor_ for pointing out what we simple-minded peasants could not see!" George roared as he actually got down on the floor and bowed to me.

I took a step back from him and said, "No need for that."

As George stood up, glared at me, and stalked away, another lab technician snorted and rolled her eyes at me. She was a middle-aged woman named Susan.

"If it were that easy, we would have already had the results back to you," she explained in frustration. "We were already aware of all the facts you just told us, _thanks._ Now it's just a matter of figuring out what the hell is going on with this thing."

She turned back to one of the more powerful microscopes and gazed at the sample in the petri dish. I thought for a moment that that was her way of ending the conversation, but then she waved me over.

Not looking up from the microscope, she said, "Our problem is that it looks very similar to Y. pestis, except _slightly different._"

"Different how?" I asked.

"Well, almost as if it's... _mutated_ We're thinking possibly a new biovar of Y. pestis," she said. "Which means..."

"This thing is completely unpredictable. We won't really know what to expect from it... There could be all sorts of unforeseen side-effects!" I breathed.

"Exactly," Susan sighed.

Well, crap.

* * *

When George came back and threatened to poison my food when I least expected it if I didn't get out of his sight, Susan told me it would be best if I go. With the promise that they would have the results ready soon, I left as quickly as I could. 

This new plague virus had me really worried now. As I had said before, it would be unpredictable. What if this mutation causes new, more dangerous symptoms? What if it makes the virus even more contagious than before? There were so many different possibilities that we couldn't be sure about, and a virus that erratic is not something I want my friends or anyone else I know catching.

So the first thing I did was grab a bunch of surgeon face masks from a supply closet and hunted down my friends. It really wouldn't do too much, but the fear didn't have me thinking quite clearly. While I would have loved to have everyone put on antibiotics to prevent catching the disease, I knew that until Kelso felt this was serious enough, something like that wouldn't happen.

Since it was well past midnight, everyone who wasn't still working their shift, but were stuck here due to the quarantine, had found places to sleep around the hospital. The on-call room seemed the most logical place for them to be, so I checked there first. I burst into the room without considering how many people I'd be disturbing, and was met with many annoyed groans.

"JD?" Elliot asked sleepily.

"What the hell, man? I just got off my shift," came Turk's muffled response as he lay with his face buried in his pillow. Carla didn't even bother to give me a response and merely pulled the blankets over her head and curled up against Turk's side.

"I realize that you're all very tired, so if you'll just do this one thing for me, I'll leave you alone and let you sleep," I said.

"Do I have to get up?" Turk asked.

"No, look, I just want you to wear a face mask for now. Whatever's going around is contagious, and I don't want you to catch it," I explained, but left out the whole plague detail; I didn't need them doubting me on this.

"Aw, that's so sweet that you're worried about us, Bambi... Now go away and let us sleep," Carla said.

"Please, guys, just trust me on this and wear the mask," I pleaded while holding out the masks to them.

"Why aren't you wearing one?" Elliot asked in annoyance.

"Oh, I, um..."

There is no possible way I could explain the whole 'can't get sick, already dead' thing to them. So I opted for forgetfulness.

"I was _so_ worried about you, that I didn't get a chance to put it on," I rambled off before taking one of the face masks and putting it on over my mouth and nose, "See? Now you."

"Vanilla bear, you're overreacting," Turk stated, "I'm sure once you get some sleep, you'll see that-"

"Oh, for the love of God! Just put on the stupid mask so he'll leave!" one of the nurses in another bed shouted irritably, and there was an echo of agreement coming from the people in the other beds.

"Gimme the damn mask," Carla growled, reaching over Turk.

I passed her two masks and Elliot also took one. After the three of them put on the surgical face masks, Carla snapped, "Now go!"

"Thank you," I said in a tone that asked 'was that so hard?'.

I closed the door to the on-call room before heading out to search for Dr. Cox. Thankfully, he was rather easy to find seeing as how he still hadn't left the staff lounge. However, unlike all the times before when he was in the lounge, this time the TV was off and he was seemingly asleep on the couch. I wasn't to surprised to see that there was nobody else in the room; Dr. Cox probably kicked everyone out when he wanted to get a little shut-eye.

Having calmed down a bit after talking to Elliot, Carla, and Turk, I found myself thinking clearly enough to know it would not be the wisest decision to go bursting into the 'lion's den' like I had before with the on-call room. Instead, I slowly approached the sleeping form on my mentor and cautiously reached out to nudge him awake.

However, before my hand could even touch his shoulder, he growled, "Cindy, you better be here, disturbing me, to tell me that the quarantine is over."

I swear, if it were possible for me to have a heart attack, I would have keeled over right then and there. Instead, I jumped backwards, tripped over the coffee table, and went crashing to the ground.

"...ow."

"Very graceful, Claire. Don't you listen to a thing those other girls at school are saying, you _are_ a good cheerleader, and I bet if you tried your hardest, well damn it all, you could be cheer captain!" Dr. Cox said with a grin.

As I rose to my feet and the bruise I got from landing wrong healed itself up, I held out the face mask and said, "I want you to wear this, so you don't get sick."

His gaze traveled from the mask in my hand to the one I was still wearing and, clearing his throat, finally said, "Newbie, you better not be talking about that whole plague thing because I already have a big enough headache without you adding to this crap to it."

"I'm not going to fight with you about that again," I sighed, then added, "Even if it isn't the plague, whatever it is, it's still really contagious."

"That much is obvious," he nodded, actually agreeing with me.

"If you want to cure all of these people, then you can't risk getting sick yourself," I said, trying to reason with him, and when he still didn't seem too convinced, I said with a sigh, "If you wear the mask and I'm wrong about it being the plague, I won't bother you for a _whole day._"

"A week."

"Two days."

"A week."

"...Three days."

"A week."

"Four days is my final offer," I said, crossing my arms stubbornly.

"One full week or nothing at all," Dr. Cox said, crossing his own arms.

I caved.

"Fine. One week _if_ I'm wrong."

Dr. Cox gave me a smug look as he took the mask and put it on.

'_Let him bask in his small victory, I know I'm right anyway,_' I thought with an inward smile.

"Why are you still standing there? You have my patients to take care of," He said with a whistle. "Go, go, go!"

I fled from the room.

* * *

_Ending the chapter here. Parts of this were just painful to write because some of it was so boring! For me, at least. Hopefully the rest of you got some entertainment out of this. If not, well, it picks up. Really, it does. Now to go over some of what you've read in this chapter. _

_The whole, 'Grandma's on the roof' thing is based after a joke my friend once told me. Basically, a guy goes away on vacation and later on gets a call from his friend saying that his cat climbed up the roof, fell off, and died. The guy loved his cat, and angrily tells his friend he should have broken it to him gradually. Tell him one day that his cat climbed up the roof. Then a day or so after, tell him that his cat fell off the roof and died. So later on, when the guy is still on vacation, he gets a call from his friend saying, "Grandma climbed up on the roof today." _

_And also... _

_Yersinia pestis is the bacterium responsible for the plague, but I'm sure you already guessed that. _

_So, now that you've read it, tell me what you think and review it!  
_


	8. Chapter 8

_Greetings readers of fic! Moving right along to chapter eight. _

Lawyers: As you know, and as we have stated many times before, our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

I spent the next couple of hours doing grunt work, which basically consisted of my checking on the plethora of patients I was assigned to and also a ridiculous amount of paper work. However, when 4AM rolled around, I had reached my limit and no amount of coffee would be able to keep me up. So, after paging a few unfortunate interns who were also stuck because of the quarantine, I divided the charts up among them and went in search of a place to crash.

I slowly wandered down the hallway, dragging my feet, yet not quite sure where I was heading. I sort of felt like I was on auto-pilot. My feet seemed to know where they were going, but my mind was too fuzzy to care. After a long day of dealing with a funeral, being pretty much thrown back into full-time reaping business, and then helping patients on the side so that they won't end up as another obituary to add to my collection, everything just piled up until it smothered me. Except I can't die, so it's like an eternal smothering.

I just need to get some sleep, and I'll be in a better mood tomorrow.

My feet led me straight to the on-call room, which left me a little confused because of course every bed would have been taken by now. Still, I opened the door, slowly this time, so as not to disturb the room's sleeping occupants. However, I wasn't as quiet as I would have hoped because Elliot cracked one eye open at me and murmured drowsily, "JD, you still up?"

I nodded in response. She closed her eye then slid over to one side of the bed and patted the empty space next to her. I smiled at her gratefully before closing the door behind me and shrouding the room in darkness. I shuffled toward the bed with one hand held out in front of me, slowly waving back and forth, to make sure I didn't run into anything. Almost to the bed, Elliot grasped my waving hand and pulled me down onto the mattress. I lay down in the empty space and we both fidgeted for a moment before we got comfortable.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"Night, JD," she whispered, relaxing against the pillow.

"Night."

Whether you're dead or alive, it always helps to have good friends.

* * *

_ The colorful banner that hung above the entranceway read 'Happy New Year 1969!' There was a rather strong-looking man in a tux standing before the closed double doors, and standing behind a podium positioned to the right of the doors was a middle aged black women wearing a fancy red dress and her hair up in a bun. _

_"Names and division, please," she asked cheerfully. _

_"Joseph D. and Dan N. of the plague," Dan said with a flirty smile.  
_

_She skimmed through a long list of names on a clipboard before nodding to the man guarding the door and saying, "They're clear." _

_The man stepped aside and opened one of the doors to let us through, and as soon as we entered the room, he closed the door behind us. It was a large and rather fancy-looking banquet hall with many balloons scattered about as well as more banners that read '1969.' There were a few tables and chairs positioned randomly around the room and to one side of the banquet hall, a buffet table was set up. In one corner of the room, there were a few couches and there was also a TV with the channel set to Time Square so we would be able to watch the ball drop. Last, but certainly not least, on the side of the room opposite to the buffet, was a free bar. _

_However, while the banquet hall looked nice and inviting, the most interesting fact about this whole private New Year's party is that everyone attending is dead. The guests, the people at the door, the waiters, the cooks, and the bartender were all dead. Not only that, but they were all grim reapers too. Well, most of them, some of the reapers had brought the soul they had recently reaped along to the party. _

_This mass gathering of reapers to celebrate the new year was something that had been going on every year for longer than I've even been dead. It was nice, really, being able to kick back, relax, and not have to hide your side-job secret. Plus, every year, they served drinks that are strong enough to actually get a reaper drunk. _

_This is about the ninth time I've been to one of these parties and each time I still always meet new people. I had been sitting slouched down on one of the couches, sipping from some sort of fruity drink that the bartender promised would get me drunk tonight, when I met Steve McDouglas. He had sat down next to me with his own strong drink, and shook my hand. _

_"Steve McDouglas, plague division," he said, still shaking my hand. _

_"Uh, Joseph Donovan," I said, being courteous. "But call me JD. I'm also plague division." _

_"So, how many reaps have you had? I've had two-hundred and twelve so far," he stated. _

_"I don't count," I said, taking a sip of my drink. _

_Damn, that has a kick to it! I'm already feeling a little buzzed. What do they put in this, liquid crack? _

_"Yes, well, I like to think that I'm getting close to reaching my quota," he explained. "So, when did you die? I died during the Third Pandemic in 1856." _

_"It was during the San Francisco outbreak in 1902," I said. _

_"So __you're_ the newbie!" he laughed. 

_"Yup, that's me," I said dryly. "Of course, I __am_ older than a lot of the reapers here." 

_"Still, you're the youngest member in the entire world plague division," he said, actually ruffling my hair. _

_I was starting to not like this guy. _

_While I fixed my hair as best as I could, he said, "So, what have you been up to, JD?" _

_"Reaping," I said simply before downing the rest of my drink. _

_"No, I mean job-wise. Earning an income and all that. Me, I'm a lab assistant. Specializing in Yersinia pestis." _

_"Yeah, okay," I said, not really knowing what that meant. "I've been thinking of maybe becoming a doctor someday." _

_Steve laughed again, "That's a little hypocritical, don't you think?" _

_I frowned, "It's not like I'd be reaping all my patients, you know, since the plague isn't all that common anymore." _

_"Yeah, I know, it sucks, doesn't it?" he said. _

_I raised an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean?" _

_"Oh, come on!" he snapped, "Every other division out there gets to reap daily, or at least weekly, but we're lucky if we get just one for the year, and it's all because the living had to come up with a cure. I tell ya, JD, not a day goes by where I don't wish for another outbreak." _

_The alcohol made everything a little fuzzy after that, but I must have done or said something to piss Steve off because the next time I saw him, he made it quite clear that he did not like me. No skin off my back though because I didn't like him either._

* * *

I was awoken from my sleep by the announcement that blasted over the intercom, "All hospital staff please report to conference room 7B for an important meeting." 

"It's like, five in the morning," Elliot groaned from beside me.

An hour of sleep? Well that figures. The universe must be determined to keep me awake.

I rolled out of bed with Elliot right behind me and we, along with everyone else in the on-call room, grudgingly shuffled out the door and down the hall to the conference room. As we filed into the rather large room and took a seat, I vaguely noted that it was the same room where the hospital discussed several morbidity and mortality conferences, such as the one my friends and I had faced with the patient, Mr. Foster.

Kelso stood at the front of the room with a microphone in hand and as soon as we were all seated, he said cheerfully, "Morning everyone."

There were several annoyed grunts in response. I bet he enjoyed waking us up this early.

"Right, straight to business," he said, dropping the happy attitude in an instant, "I've just received the test results back from all the deceased patients we had yesterday and it appears that we have a plague on our hands."

I could hear a muttered, "Damn it!" echo around the room and I had a feeling it was Dr. Cox.

"That's right, pneumonic plague," Kelso said nodding. "However, the virus looks as if it could possibly be a new biovar of Y. pestis, so I want all doctors and nurses monitoring the patients for any abnormalities. As of today, there will be some new rules set in place to prevent this thing from spreading. Everyone is required to wear face masks. Just consider it a new part of your wardrobe."

A groan of protest rang throughout the conference room and Kelso simply smiled and said, "You think that's bad? Well, suck it up because there's more. Since, by now, you've all been exposed to the disease, as a precaution, everyone will be taking the necessary antibiotics. You'll be able to get it from the nurse's station each morning, and don't think any of you will be getting away with taking more than your share or skipping your dosage altogether because I will be keeping a record on each of you."

Great, that meant they'd be wasting medicine on me. Hmm, maybe I could just pretend to take it, but really save it for the people who need it. People like Mrs. Baker and Mr. Bengal.

"I want all plague patients to be moved up to the top floor. The third floor will eventually be used for recovering plague patients, and the bottom two floors will be reserved for non-plague patients. Aside from plague patients and staff, I don't want anyone else going up to the top floors. We need to keep this thing contained and we can't do that if families keep coming and going and spreading the disease wherever they go. Is everyone clear?" he snapped.

"Yeah," we all sighed, "Okay."

"Great! Quarantine's over, now get back to work," he said with a glare.

* * *

My early morning rantings about the on-coming disease didn't seem so crazy now that _everyone_ was sporting a face mask. As promised, the antibiotic, tetracyclines (one of the preferred antibiotics for preventive therapy with the plague), was available at the nurse's station. After I pretended to pop the pills into my mouth, Lavern signed me off for the day on the computer. As soon as I was out of sight from the nurse's station, I slipped the pills into my scrubs pocket and went off to help the rest of the nurses and doctors with the task of once again moving the patients to different rooms. 

Before I knew it, all the patients were relatively comfortable in their new rooms and the fourth floor had been isolated off as a 'staff only' zone. It was now ten-thirty in the morning and, having already called Dan with the news of the quarantine being over, I needed to find someone to cover me while I was at the meeting.

Dr. Cox was a definite 'no' and I didn't even try to go ask him. He had been in a bit of a mood all morning, more-so than usual. I had a small feeling it had something to do with the bet he lost to me. Of course, each time I had run into him, he didn't say anything about there ever having been a bet and just gave me his usual 'crossed arms, swiping his nose, all followed by an extremely long rant' spiel. Then again, he could just be unhappy about having to take even more orders from Kelso; what with the whole face mask and medication thing...

"Elliot!" I shouted, calling her over to me from down the hall, "Could you cover for me, _please!_"

"JD, I have enough patients as it is," she said, then sighed, "Why? Where are you going?"

"Dan stopped over last night," I explained. "Nana Hobbs died, and the lawyer's going over her Will today. I have to be there."

Wow, I just completely pulled that out of my ass and it's actually a fairly decent excuse. However, this meant that I was all out of grandparents to use their death as an excuse... Oh well, there was always Uncle Bernie.

"Oh, JD, I'm so sorry," she said sympathetically, covering her mouth with her hand. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," I said, adopting a sad tone. "Believe it or not, but Dan being around actually helps... A little."

"Do you need the whole day?" she asked.

"No, I'll be back after the Will reading," I said, "I just don't know how long it will take."

She nodded, "Sure, I can cover your patients. Just page me when you get back, okay?"

"Alright," I said with a slight smile, "Thanks Elliot."

* * *

Dan was waiting outside the hospital in the rental car by the time I managed to escape. When I opened the car door, my ears were assaulted by the song 'Carry On My Wayward Son' playing at full blast on the radio. 

"Why do you have it so loud?" I shouted over the music as I climbed in and buckled up.

"I love this song!" he shouted back with a grin. "Don't you have a favorite song that just, you know, gets you up and going in the morning?"

_"If I could escape!" I sang off-key to the radio, dancing around the bathroom, "And re-create a place that's my own world! And I could be your favorite girl! Forever, perfectly together. Now tell me boy, now wouldn't that be sweet?"_

"Uhh, no," I said slowly, shaking my head. "Not really."

"That's too bad," Dan said as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"Mind if I catch a little shut-eye?" I asked. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Go ahead," he said, shrugging.

"Wake me when we get there," I said before reclining my seat, and closing my eyes. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but smile slightly when Dan turned the radio down just a tad. After the song had ended, of course..

* * *

Someone was nudging my shoulder and calling my name, disturbing my much needed rest. 

"Whaaaat?" I groaned.

"We're here," Dan said. "Come on, get up."

I cracked open my eyes to find that we were already parked in front of a building that was built to look like some sort of mountain lodge. In fact, if it wasn't for the very commercial-looking sign nailed to the front entrance that read 'Moose Lodge,' I would have actually believed we were in the mountains.

"They rented the whole place for today, so we don't have to worry about anyone eavesdropping," Dan explained as we got out of the car and headed to the front entrance.

Just like at all the New Year's parties, they had one person guarding the door and another checking people in. Except instead of a clipboard full of names, the guy had a laptop with him.

"Names?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Dan Neutra and Joseph Donovan," Dan stated.

The man took a moment to type something into the computer before saying to us, "Yup, here you are." he then turned to the guy standing by the door and said, "Let them through."

The inside of the lodge was packed with reapers from all over the California area, and I wouldn't be too surprised if several of them were from the surrounding states. Some were milling about and exchanging small-talk, but most of the people had their eyes glued to the big screen TV in a corner of the room. On the TV, the news was playing, and apparently the reporter was talking about the breaking news she had just received about how the virus currently infecting many Americans was in fact the plague.

While Dan went off to go flirt with some of the girls and try to get a few phone numbers, I grabbed a muffin from the small buffet table that had been set up in another corner of the lodge.

"Mmm, blueberry," I said, happily munching on my treat.

There were no more seats available on any of the couches or chairs, so I was forced to stand and wait for the meeting to start. As I stood among the crowd, shifting my weight from foot to foot, who did I bump into, but _Steve_, of all people!

"Aw, crud," I muttered.

"Well, if it isn't _little Joey,_" he said with a smirk.

"Steve, we both died in our late twenties, I'm no more little than you are," I said dryly. "Actually, I think I'm an inch taller than you."

"That still doesn't rule out the fact that I'm fifty years older than you," he stated, "So what has your division been up to? Carl's been given a high promotion. He's no longer just a judge, he's working in the White House now."

"How very nice for Carl," I said insincerely.

Carl was Steve's head reaper. Ever since that New Year's party, whenever Steve and I meet up, we always tried to out-brag each other and prove who had the better division.

"Speaking of promotions, Sam reached his quota a couple years ago and moved on to the next step of his afterlife," I said, smiling arrogantly.

"Oh? Then who's the head reaper of your division now?" Steve asked and my smile dropped a little.

Steve never thought too highly of Barbara.

"Barbara," I said.

"Barbara?" he laughed, "You mean that gold-digging tramp? _She's_ the one leading you lemmings?"

"You shut up about mom!" I hissed as I took a step closer to him with murder in my eyes.

"Mom?" he said, roaring with laughter, "You call her mom? Oh, that's rich!"

"Oh yeah? I'm a doctor now, did you know? And what are you? _Still_ a lab assistant?" I asked smugly.

"Well.. I.." he stuttered, then glared at me, "There's a lot of work in moving up from assistant."

"I'm sure there is," I said condescendingly.

Steve's hands curled into fists, and just when I was starting to think this might get ugly, Dan stepped in between us and held out his hands.

"Whoa, whoa! Lower your guns, guys," he said calmly, and I was a little surprised that Dan, of all people, was trying to stop a fight. "There's no reason for there to be fighting among reapers. Do I need to put you two in time-out?"

Steve and I exchanged glares, but said nothing. Instead, we turned our backs to each other and walked to different sides of the room. Dan raised an eyebrow in my direction before shaking his head with a laugh and walking back over to the girl he had been talking to prior to stopping the fight.

The meeting didn't start until the old grandfather clock in the corner ticked twelve-thirty, and by that time, people had stopped filing into the room, so everyone that was planning on going to the meeting had already arrived. All the head reapers in the lodge took their place at the front of the room. The first to speak was a middle-aged man with sandy-blond hair and a slight beard.

"We're glad you could all make it today. Pleasantries aside though, let's get straight to business," he said. "A plague epidemic had spread throughout America, and as you saw from the news report, the living has finally identified it."

"The reason we've called you all here today is so we can explain what our course of action will be throughout this epidemic," an elderly woman said. "The way of the grim reaper has always been to sit back and let the death happen."

A girl in her early twenties said sympathetically, "We are aware that many of you have other jobs where your decisions link you directly to the plague, however, your job as a reaper comes first."

"Wait!" a woman who looked to be in her thirties shouted from my left. "Are you actually telling me that you want me to _do nothing?_"

"Yeah," I agreed, "I'm a doctor, I can't just _not_ treat my patients!"

"Treat you patients as you normally would," the man with the sandy blond hair said, "but when it's their time to die, don't try and save them."

Steve's head reaper, Carl, who was a tall man with dark brown hair and brown eyes was the next one to speak, "Because it is pneumonic plague we're dealing with here, it's quite clear that this outbreak is not natural. What we're looking at is a bioterrorist attack."

"The living have brought this disease upon themselves," the elderly woman said, "and It is not for us to meddle in the affairs of the living."

"Bullshit!" I shouted and all eyes turned to me, "None of those people asked to get sick. It's not like they searched the terrorists down and begged them to infect America."

"We understand your concern," the woman in her early twenties said, "but this is something we must let the government take care of. It's not our fight to get involved in."

"It's been decided not just by us, but by dozens of other head reapers in plague divisions across America that we will not interfere," the blond man said. "You're all to go about your afterlives as usual."

"I don't believe this," a man to my right growled quietly.

I could believe it either. They didn't want us to help. Is it just me, or do most reapers start to lose their humanity around the second century or so?

"You can't possibly expect me to not do anything," a dark haired girl in her mid- twenties cried, "I have so many friends that are still alive!"

"I don't understand why so many of you are having a problem with this," Carl said. "It's not like they don't have cures for the plague."

"You're just saying that because you want to finish your quota and this is the _perfect_ opportunity!" I snapped, and several reapers shouted in agreement.

Steve scoffed, "You haven't nearly been around as long as the rest of us _Joey_! You couldn't possibly understand."

"I understand perfectly!" I shouted as I approached him. "I understand that so many of you have been dead for so long that you've forgotten how important it is to be alive!"

Once again, there were several shouts of agreement.

"You're one to talk," Steve said as he too took steps toward me, "I do too understand how important life is! I understand how important it is to spend time with your family, how important it is to fall in love, get married, and live your life to its fullest so that when you die, you'll always carry those memories with you _forever._ Or did you _forget_ that?"

He stepped so far over the line with that last sentence that there was no longer a line. The line was a dot.

I snapped.

Then I tackled him.

And then, well... all hell broke loose in the Moose Lodge, and not just between Steve and I, no, _everyone_ began beating the crap out of each other. Even the reapers who looked to be in their eighties.

Just look at it this way: you can't die, you've been alive for over one hundred years, you have a horrible job that you hate, and then you're put into a room with over thirty other people in the same situation as you who also can't die and are therefore just as invincible as you. All that pent-up aggression and frustration is just bound to explode in the form of a massive fight.

Yelling, growling, and screamed obscenities rang throughout the lodge. I had Steve pinned to the ground and was punching him repeatedly across the face while he had his hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing as hard as he could. Two people, an eighty-year-old woman and a man in his thirties who were fighting each other, tripped over my back and went falling into the buffet table. The table buckled beneath the two and food as well as forks, knives and spoons spilled onto the floor.

Everyone in the lodge froze as their gazes snapped over to the scattered silverware. Then, just as suddenly as we stopped, we all erupted with movement as we dove for the kitchen utensils. Steve and I rose to our feet; he had a knife, and I had... a spoon.

"Damn it!" I hissed.

"Ha-ha!" he crowed before lunging at me with the knife.

I took a quick step backwards, but unfortunately slipped on the food and went tumbling down to the ground. Steve used that to his advantage and came down at me with the knife, stabbing me in the chest. I gasped and then howled in agony when he ripped the knife out of me. However, before he could stab me again, I leapt forward and tackled him back to the ground, my teeth latching onto his neck.

He cried out as I bit down and asked incredulously, "What are you, a _vampire?_"

I pulled away and said with a bloody grin, "I play dirty, _bi-otch._"

"How's this for dirty!" he cried as he slashed his knife across my eyes.

I screamed before clawing him across the face. He slashed me down the arm, so I pinned down his arm that held the knife and blindly tried to pull it from his grip. I was distracted from my task when yet another person tripped over my back, and Steve took that chance to knee me in the stomach. When I instinctively wrapped my hands around my stomach, he pushed me off of him.

My vision healed in just enough time to see Steve coming after me again with his knife. However, before he could reach me, a shot rang out and a hole was blown straight through his head.

"Ahhhh!" Steve cried as he dropped the knife and held his hands over the wound, "Sonovabitch!"

"Found the rifles," Dan said cheerfully from behind me. "This _is_ a hunting lodge after all."

Noticing that, despite the sudden use of firearms, the fighting still had not ceased, Dan pulled me to my feet, and dragged me toward the doors.

"This isn't over," Steve called after me as he dizzily sank to his knees.

Dan paused at the door and shouted back in an amused tone, "Great meeting, guys! See you at the New Year's party!" As he pulled me out the doors and led my stumbling form to the rental car, he scolded mockingly, "What did I say about fighting? I swear, I can't take you anywhere!"

"You shot him," I accused childishly.

"Only because you were getting your ass kicked," he stated simply.

"I could've beat him eventually," I muttered stubbornly.

Dan ignored my mumbling as he pushed me towards the passenger's door of the car. I stumbled the last few steps to the car, and then leaned heavily against it's door with my eyes closed while I waited for my blood to replenish itself. Dan walked around the car to the driver's side and opened the door before getting in and sitting down.

"You getting in, or not?" he asked when he noticed I hadn't moved.

"I'm all bloody," I explained, "I'll mess up the seats."

"Don't worry, I paid the five dollar insurance fee. Now get in before you pass out," Dan said as he patted the passenger's seat next to him.

I sighed before opening the door and slumping down onto the seat. As I slowly buckled myself in, I said, "You know what? I feel much better now. Very relaxed."

Dan glanced over at me and smiled, "Nothing like a good fight to get rid of stress. Of course, you could just be suffering from severe blood loss."

Putting the key in the ignition, Dan turned the car on and said in amusement, "I hope you have a good story in mind to explain all the blood on you."

"I work in a hospital where I deal with blood all the time," I said tiredly. "It'll be easy."

* * *

"Bambi," Carla gasped. "Oh my God, are you okay?" 

By the time Dan had dropped me off, all of my wounds had healed up and I had as much blood in my body as I had when I first left the place in the morning, so I was feeling energized and ready to go. When I first entered the hospital, I had been hoping to stop by the lockers and clean up before anyone saw me, however, I just wasn't that lucky.

Carla immediately set to work at looking me over to make sure I was okay. Waving away her kind gesture, I joked, "You should've seen the other guy."

I heard a choked gasp come from my right and I glanced over to see the pale and horrified form of Jack Castello staring me down. Rolling my eyes at him, I turned my attention back to Carla who had her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face.

"Why? Did you kill him?" she asked, clearly not amused with my joking.

Jack let out a frightened yelp at that question before he turned tale and bolted down the hall. Carla and a few other doctors and nurses gave him a weird and confused look before shrugging and turning their attention back to their work.

"Okay, joking aside, I accidentally broke a bag of blood," I explained.

"What about the rips in your clothes?" Carla asked suspiciously.

"Fine," I sighed, "I crashed into a whole cart of medicine and several bags of blood.. and ripped my clothes."

"Really? All those rips?" she said, still not quite convinced.

"Hi, you've met me before. JD, right? I think we all know just how clumsy I can be," I said irritably.

Carla raised her hands defensively as she said, "Okay, I'll let it go, but you better watch that tone around me, JD. I'm a pregnant woman whose hormones are really starting to act up."

"Right, right, sorry," I said, taking a step back and flashing a nervous smile. "You know what? I'm just going to go now and clean up before I get back to work."

"I think that'd be best," Carla said cheerfully.

I slipped away as quickly as I could before that cheerful attitude could turn on me and transform into anger or annoyance or sadness. Nope, definitely didn't want to be dealing with a sad, pregnant women.

As I walked down the hall heading toward the lockers, I was so busy with the task of paging Elliot to tell her I had returned that I didn't see Dr. Cox in front of me until I ran straight into him. We both stumbled back a few paces and he swiped irritable at the blood I had accidentally smudged on his t-shirt. I watched his every movement a little fearfully, hoping that he was in a bit of a better mood by now.

His angry gaze snapped up to me and he looked about ready to tare me a new one before he stopped and actually got a good look at my bloody form.

"Jesus, Newbie," he breathed, pausing to clear his throat, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I'm fine," I said immediately, "I just tripped and fell into a cart and broke a blood bag. That's all."

"_That's all_?" he said with an incredulous laugh before clearing his throat again.

I frowned.

"You keep doing that," I said suspiciously.

"Doing what?" he asked, annoyed.

"Clearing your throat," I stated, narrowing my eyes. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm _fine_," he said defensively as he crossed his arms and glared at me, "So I have a little frog in my throat, that's not exactly a matter for national security."

"If that's true, than you won't mind me checking your temperature," I said simply as I slowly approached him with my hand raised.

However, he swatted my hand away and said, "No touching, ever, not under any circumstance. I know that I'm irresistible, Susan, but you'll just have to have some self control. I am sort of seeing someone after all."

"Have you been coughing at all?" I asked, ignoring his rant.

"I'm not your patient, Newbie," Dr. Cox said with a glare.

"Why are you avoiding the question?" I asked, glaring right back at him.

"I'm not avoiding the question," he snapped.

"What's that over there?" I asked with a curious look on my face as I gazed over his shoulder.

"What?" he asked, confused, glancing over his shoulder as well.

I took that chance to press my hand against his forehead and gasped when I did. "You are _burning up!_ Plus, you would never fall for that trick had you been feeling well," I added, then asked, "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"I feel fine!" he raged, his face flushed.

The yelling must have triggered something in him because at this point he started coughing, except he didn't stop after the first few coughs. I quickly looked around the hallway until I spotted one of the interns who had been walking by, but then decided to stop and watch the battle between Dr. Cox and I.

"You! Yeah, intern, go grab a gurney and send someone else to get a room ready on floor three!" I snapped and the intern scurried away.

I heard a thud from behind me and jerked back around to find that Dr. Cox had collapsed and was convulsing on the floor. It was the one of scariest things I had ever seen in my entire afterlife, and I've seen some pretty messed up stuff before. Cursing, I sprung into action. I pinned his arms to his side by straddling his chest and supported his head with one hand, so he wouldn't concuss himself, while I paged an SOS emergency to my location. Part of me was really glad that he wasn't lucid for any of this because if he saw the position we were in, I knew he'd never let me hear the end of it.

* * *

_Wooh! Finally done with chapter eight! All right! This is like, the longest chapter I've ever written. Now all that's left is to (cries) edit. Oh god, the horror! _

_On a side note: I got a tattoo yesterday! It took 2 and 1/2 hours, and what makes it really special is that I designed and drew it myself. I'll try and get a picture of it up onto my deviantart account sometime to show you all. _

_Well, you know the drill: review please!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Greetings readers of fic! How are ya? I'm not going to bore you with the details explaining why I haven't updated in a while because quite frankly, I know you'd rather be reading the next chapter. _

_Oh, one note: nasotracheal intubation. Not sure if that's the right term. What I'm thinking of is that thin tube you put up against your nose to help you breath. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, don't sue her, she has nothing to offer.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

He was stable now and up on floor three in his own room. The convulsions were due to his high fever, something we were thankfully able to lower. However, he still hadn't woken up yet. Granted, we had just barely finished getting him set up on IVs, different monitors, and assisted breathing via nasotracheal intubation, still though, I was worried. So worried that I hadn't yet left to go wash all the blood off of me.

Of course, I had every right to be worried. His chest x-rays had come back positive for what looked like pneumonia, but what we really knew was the plague, and I know first hand just how horrible and deadly a plague epidemic can be. While I may not have been a reaper for an entire epidemic like so many of my colleagues, I still caught the tail end of the one that killed me off, and that's just enough experience for me, thank you very much.

God, what if I wake up one morning and get his post-it? I don't think I could handle that.

No, no that's not going to happen, and do you know why? It won't happen because not only is there a cure, but I will also do everything in my power to make sure he recovers from this. The 'reaper way' be damned! Dr. Cox is my patient now, and I'm going to make sure that he survives this.

"JD?"

I turned away from the sleeping form of my mentor to face Carla. Taking in my ragged appearance, she gave me a concerned look.

"Yeah?" I asked tiredly.

"Jordan's here and wants to know what's going on," she explained. "Do you want me to get someone else to talk to her so you can clean up?"

I shook my head and sighed, "No, I'm his doctor, I'll talk to her."

Carla frowned at my ripped and bloody clothes, apparently not agreeing with my decision, but she relented anyways and pointed me to the nearest waiting room. I entered the waiting room to the sight of Jordan sitting in a chair with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. Just like everyone else in the hospital, she too wore a face mask.

She took one look at me before jumping up from her chair and snapping, "They said he had just caught a virus!"

"What?" I asked, confused, before noticing her eyeing the blood covering me, "Oh, no, that's just me. Well, it's not _mine_ of course. Funny story actually-"

"Just get to the point, DJ!" Jordan growled.

"Right," I said, smiling nervously, "Dr. Cox just caught the virus that's been going around."

"You mean the plague; the reason why we're all wearing these stupid masks?" she asked.

"Yes, pneumonic plague. He collapsed due to a high fever, but don't worry, he's completely stable now. We've switched him over to streptomycin, he'll be just fine," I explained.

"You better pray that he _is_ fine, or it's your head!" she hissed with fire blazing in her eyes. "What room is he in?"

"Room three-twelve," I told her immediately, but before she left, I asked, "Are you on tetracyclines?"

"Yes, I am," she said, rolling her eyes at me, "I _do_ work here, you know."

"I was just making sure," I said, holding up my hands defensively.

As she walked out of the waiting room, she paused for a moment by the door to turn back to me and say, "Oh, and go clean yourself up. You're scaring the children, and scaring the children is my job, understand?"

I looked down at myself as Jordan walked away, and I must admit that she had a point. There was a large bloody smear on my chest and also running down one of my arms. I'm surprised I hadn't been stopped by more people aside from Carla and Dr. Cox. Of course, as I headed down to the locker room to wash up, I was more aware of the looks people threw me as I walked by. By the time I actually reached the lockers, I had been stopped by two other doctors, a nurse, and even the Janitor.

Although he hadn't been concerned for my well-being.

"Oh yeah, that's _real subtle_," he had said, looking me up and down. "You better not get blood on my clean floor."

Upon reaching the lockers, I peeled off my scrubs and pulled on my shower shorts. The scrubs were ripped and bloody and, quite frankly, beyond repair. I was a little disappointed because it was one of my favorite pairs. With a sigh, I tossed the useless things into the trash. Thankfully, I had an extra pair in my locker, but first, I needed to wash up.

A quick look in a mirror showed me that not only did I have a little blood left over on my chest and arm, but I also had it splashed across my eyes and staining my mouth, making me look like a zombie who went a little crazy with his afternoon snack. That would explain the fearful looks a couple people gave me as well as the slight panic attack Castello had when he saw me in the hall.

I snickered.

He probably thinks I _did_ eat someone.

I let the warm water run over me as I scrubbed at my face. Stupid Steve. He's such an asshole. Of all the places he could have cut me, he had to go for my eyes. That's such a dirty trick, and damn, did it hurt. You think getting a bug in your eye stings? Try having them sliced open like two grapes.

For the record, I would like to point out that while I may have started the fight, Steve provoked me. He was just begging for a beating.

_Stupid, stupid Steve._

Next time it'll be me with the knife!

I rinsed my mouth out with the shower water as best as I could, ridding myself of Steve's putrid blood.

'_Yuck! Definitely not a taste I want to experience again any time soon,_' I thought with a grimace.

With my face clean, I moved on to my chest and my arm. Thankfully there wasn't too much blood to wash away since most of it had been soaked up by my scrubs. I watched as the now pink water swirled down the drain before turning off the shower with a sigh. I quickly toweled myself off before changing into my spare pair of scrubs and headed off to check up on all my patients.

I decided to save my visit with Dr. Cox for last because Jordan was probably still in there and I'd rather not invoke her wrath today. As for the rest of my patients, there were no changes. That's to be expected though, considering the fact that we've just administered the correct drugs early this morning. The good news is that nobody died today, so things _were_ progressing, just very slowly.

After checking all of my patients and answering about a dozen or so of my interns' pages (I just can't believe how little they know about the plague. I think I may just have to assign them some homework), I had some down time, so i bought a copy of today's newspaper and headed to Dr. Cox's room with a borrowed pair of scissors from the nurses' station. Upon reaching his room, I cautiously peered through the door to check for demons, and, seeing that Jordan had left for the day, I relaxed and walked over to Dr. Cox's still unconscious form.

I checked his vitals first. His heart rate was normal, and the respirator helped even out his breathing. However, he still had a bit of a fever. I wasn't worried though, that just meant his body was trying to fight off the virus. So, after writing down a few notes on his chart, I took a seat in the chair that had been pulled up next to his bed and opened up the paper to the obituary section.

"Hmm."

As my gaze traveled down the many obituaries that decorated the page, I thought, '_Not many of the families of the nineteen from yesterday got around to getting their obituaries out. Of course, I only need the nine that I took care of._'

"Wait, here's one," I mumbled, "Mr. McGarth. Oh, and here's Mrs. Baker."

Seeing no other person that was one of my reaps, I set the two newspaper clippings on the small table beside Dr. Cox's bed before grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. There really wasn't anything good on, so I had to settle for watching the news. They were once again talking about the plague. First they went over how easy it is to catch it, then they covered the different symptoms one may feel, and finally they urged anyone experiencing said symptoms, or anyone who had come in contact with another sick person, to visit their local doctor to get checked out.

I groaned out loud at the report and buried my face in my hands. Because of those morons, the entire population of California would soon be flocking to Sacred Heart.

_"Please, help us!" one man screamed from the hundreds of people that surrounded the hospital. _

_"Look at my daughter, she coughed this morning! She **must** have the plague!" a woman cried as she held up her three year old. _

_"There are **other** hospitals, you know," I said, speaking into a megaphone. _

_"We're all gonna die!" another man shrieked. _

_"You're about to if you don't get out of here," Dr. Cox threatened, toting a shotgun. He then turned to me and rasped tiredly, "What happened?"_

I snapped out of my daydream to see Dr. Cox conscious and staring up at me curiously. There was no fear or worry in his gaze, just curiosity. It was as if he didn't care about his own health, a fact that, quite frankly, kind of pissed me off. I mean, for God's sake, he's a doctor! With this plague going around, he should've realized that he was getting sick. Why would he just ignore it? Why didn't he go see someone about it? Was his pride so big that he just couldn't stand the thought of seeking a little medical attention?

"Newbie?"

I was just so annoyed by the whole situation. I wanted to yell at him and ask him why he was being _so stupid_. I knew I was being a little irrational, but you know what? It's been a long, exhausting day, and I'm all tapped out of rationality for the moment. Still though, I couldn't bring myself to yell at him. Maybe it was because of that hero-worship I had for him, maybe it was because he was right about me not being man enough, or maybe it was because of how pathetic he looked laying in that bed.

"Irritability is a symptom of a fever," I stated dryly. "Of course, that makes me wonder if you've had a fever the entire time I've known you."

"Am I too hot for you to handle, Sandra?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Now if we're done joking, do you mind telling me what happened?"

"You collapsed due to an extremely high fever," I explained.

"That much I gathered," Dr. Cox mumbled.

"Based on all of your symptoms and the chest x-rays we took, it's clear that you've caught pneumonic plague," I said. "I could get a sputum sample, but I really don't think it's necessary."

"Have you started me out on streptomycin?" he asked.

I nodded.

"And you finished filling out my chart? Everything's in order?"

"Yes," I said.

"Then go home and get some sleep," he said, looking me over. "You look like crap."

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told me that my shift ended almost half an hour ago. However, I didn't move from my chair quite yet. My eyes nervously darted from Dr. Cox to the monitors he was hooked up to.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"Well, it's just, do you think you'll be okay for the night?" I asked. "I could stay a little longer."

"I'm not made of glass, Newbie. I'm sure I'll survive the night without you holding my hand. Now if you're all done fretting over me like some sort of clingy, overprotective mother, I'd like to get a little me-time in before the idiot working the night shift stops by to check up on me," Dr. Cox said, waving me away from him. "Go on now. Go. That's a good girl!"

Being sure to grab the cut-out obituaries before I left, I threw Dr. Cox one last unsure look before walking away. I wish I could be as confident as him about the whole thing.

* * *

Dan lay on my bed looking quite comfortable and watched as I pulled an old shoebox out from under the afore mentioned bed. The shoebox was a medium sized, perfectly square box that may have once been used to hold a pair of boots, though I'm not exactly sure since I had gotten it so long ago. On the lid of the box written in black marker was the date of the first obituary I had ever collected, _'January 3rd, 1904.'_

As I set aside the lid and placed the two new obituaries into the nearly full box, I mumbled, "I might have to get a new box if this epidemic keeps up."

"Maybe," Dan said, "But let's stay positive."

"Right, positive," I snorted while I put the lid back on the box and shoved it under the bed before sitting on the floor up against the wall directly across from Dan's line of sight.

"Look, I know that you're worried about Coxy and all of your patients, but really, you just need to relax," Dan told me. "This isn't the Dark Ages, there's a cure for the plague now. So there's no reason to be stressed out."

"I'm not stressed, I'm mildly concerned," I said indifferently.

"Yeah, enough mild concern to give someone a tumor," Dan said, nodding.

"It's a good thing I can't get a tumor then, now isn't it?" I said.

"That's not the point," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes at me.

"There's a point?" I asked, raising a eyebrow at him.

"Two of them actually," Dan said. "First of all, stop worrying. You caught the plague early on in Coxy, and you have him on the right meds, so he'll be fine. Second of all, if you _are_ going to worry, do it in a different room, because I'm trying to sleep in here."

"Yeah, about that," I said, "That's _my_ bed. You can go sleep out on the couch."

"But Johnny, I'm your guest!" Dan protested.

"And guests sleep on the couch," I explained.

Dan smiled down at me and hugged one of my pillows as he said, "I really don't see that happening, little brother."

I got to my feet and walked over to the side of the bed. Glaring down at Dan, I pointed to the door and said, "Get off my bed and go sleep on the couch."

"If you really want to sleep in this bed so bad, then fight me for it," he said, grinning up at me impishly.

"I'm not going to fight you," I sighed.

"You're just saying that because you know you're gonna lose," Dan taunted childishly.

There was just no reasoning with Dan. He would keep this fight going all night if he wanted, and unlike him, I actually have a paying job to get up and go to tomorrow morning. So I turned my back to him and left the room. As I stepped out of my bedroom door, I felt a pillow hit me in the back of the head. I looked back to glare at him as I reached down and picked up the pillow.

"Sleep tight, little brother," Dan said as he happily climbed under _my_ covers of _my_ bed.

Maybe sometime tomorrow I could get Carla to use her pregnant, hormonal powers to scare Dan into getting a hotel room somewhere.

* * *

_That's the end of chapter 9. This chapter was painful to write because I found it a little boring. However, it was a necessary chapter. I'm just glad I'm done with it. The next chapter should be more eventful. _

_I'm glad you all liked the last chapter. The fight scene was so much fun to write, and there's more violence where that came from! _

_You know the drill. Review please._


	10. Chapter 10

_Greetings readers of fic! Just like so many other fictions out there, I too will change certain aspects of the American government. Mainly, I'm changing who the president is. There may be other things I'll change along the way, but I'm not sure at the moment what those things are. Why am I doing this? Well, to put it simply, because it'll make writing this story easier. Just roll with it, people. Here's chapter 10._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

It was early in the morning and we were all scurrying about the apartment getting ready for our shifts at the hospital while Dan prepared breakfast. Carla and I had just barely gotten through doing our hair when Dan finished the pancakes and called everyone to the table. Carla turned on the news just before we all took a seat and Dan came over to the table carrying two plates with him.

"Chocolate chip for the guys," he said cheerfully as he set down the plate in his left hand and then, setting down the plate in his right, he said, "and some bacon and apple pancakes for Carla and her quirky pregnancy cravings."

"Dan," Carla said with a fake smile, "As much as I love you making breakfast for us, how long do you plan on staying here?"

"Well, Carla, seeing as how I'm here for business reasons," Dan said as he too took a seat at the table, "how long I stay here all depends on how quickly things are resolved... in the business."

"What business would that be?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That's confidential information, if I told you, I'd have to kill you," Dan said in mock -seriousness as he gazed around the table at all of us. However, when his eyes landed on me, he cracked a grin and snorted humorously before shoveling a pancake into his mouth.

"You're a riot, Dan," I said dryly as I turned my attention back to my meal.

"If you're not out of here in two days, Dan, you're staying at a hotel," Carla said with a no-nonsense tone

"Yes, ma'am," Dan said submissively.

"Hey, they're talking about the plague," Turk said as he grabbed the remote off of the table and turned up the volume.

"America has plague on the brain and the fear of infection has risen," the reporter said, "Last night, the President had this to say..."

"We have indeed confirmed that this _is_ a bioterrorist attack. As we speak, I have my best men working to find those responsible for the attack so we can bring them to justice!" President Caedo raged.

You could tell that he was thoroughly pissed that someone got the drop on him. A part of me almost pities whoever it is they find responsible.. _Almost._

"Mr. President, just how was the virus spread?" one reporter asked.

Not missing a beat, the President said, "While we have yet to figure out how the virus was spread, I have all my researchers finding out how it had been done so that we can avoid another attack."

"Mr. President, what do you plan to do about the antibiotic shortage we are bound to face?" another reporter asked.

"When the time comes, I will supply the funds needed to make sure that no hospital will _ever_ run out of the necessary antibiotics," President Caedo said, staring straight into the camera.

That's a pretty big stretch right there, making sure we _never_ run out of antibiotics. I'm having a little trouble believing that, and apparently I wasn't the only one. Dan sighed, Carla rolled her eyes, and Turk turned off the TV. Oh, and what was up with all that crap he was spouting before? He basically just told us that he doesn't know squat, except he said it in a 'I'm gonna kick some booty as soon as I can find some booty to kick' sort-of-way.

There was a moment of silence surrounding the table as everyone mentally fumed while eating their breakfast. So I decided to lighten the mood by loudly setting down my fork and saying, "Hey, don't look at me, I voted for Furax."

"Yeah, me too," Turk said. "He was really the lesser of two evils."

I nodded before Carla said, "I voted for Spero."

"Who?" Turk and I asked at the same time.

"And that's why he didn't win," Carla sighed in exasperation.

"What about you, Dan?" Turk asked, looking to my brother.

"Oh, I don't vote," Dan said as if the act of voting was something completely ridiculous.

"Why doesn't that surprise me," Carla murmured before glancing at the clock on the wall. "Hurry up, guys. We got to get going."

We finished the rest of breakfast as quickly as we could before grabbing our jackets to leave. I told Carla and Turk that I planned to take Sasha and to go on ahead of me. I stood by the doorway, waving to them as they left, and as soon as they were out of sight, I closed the door and turned back to Dan. He smiled at me from the table, still eating his breakfast at a leisurely pace.

I paused for a moment, not really wanting to ask the question I knew needed to be asked, before I sighed and decided to face the music, "Are there any side-jobs you need me to handle today?"

"Three of them," Dan said, pulling the post-its out of his pocket.

_Damn._

I took the post-its from him and quickly flipped through them. While I did know one of the patients, none of them were Dr. Cox. For a moment, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but that was soon followed by disappointment. Three people. It wasn't nineteen, but still, these people hadn't been helped soon enough. They were taken out by the last few ripples of the epidemic. If only I had figured it all out sooner.

"Hey," Dan said, pulling me from my thoughts, "I know that look. You stop right now with that look!"

"I have a look?" I asked dubiously.

"Yeah, it's that guilty, 'it's all my fault' look," Dan explained. "So stop it."

"But if I had just put two and two together, I would have figured out that it was the plague and-"

"God!" Dan exclaimed in exasperation, burying his face in his hands. "Would you _just stop!_ It's not your fault, Joey. It wasn't back in 1902, and it isn't now. You help tons of people everyday, and that's more than most reapers can say."

"You don't get it, Dan," I snapped as I grabbed one of the post-its and held it up to his face, "You see this guy right here? S. V. Gorvick? His name is Shawn, he's nineteen, and he's _my_ patient! He came to the hospital because of a car accident, _not_ because of the plague. He got exposed to the virus on _my_ watch. So excuse me for feeling partially responsible!"

"Do I need to kick your ass to make you see sense?" Dan said, annoyed. "You _know_ what we do is important, or would you rather leave Shawn to rot inside his own body?"

"No," I relented, crossing my arms stubbornly as I leaned against the wall. "It's just hard, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he said before looking at his watch. "If you're all done being a girl, you better leave now, or you'll be late." he looked up from his watch. "Think you can handle it?"

Folding up the post-its and sticking them into my pocket, I mumbled, "Three people?" I waved him off dismissively. "Piece of cake."

* * *

Piece of cake? Yeah, right. Maybe if the cake was secretly a bomb coated in chocolate frosting that's oh-so misleading with the timer ticking away, ready to blow me to bits. It was supposed to be easy, just three people, and yet it's gone so horribly wrong.

The first problem with this whole situation is that all three of the people were kids. Shawn, being nineteen, was the oldest of the group. The second oldest was a sixteen-year-old girl named Phoebe, and the youngest was a five-year-old girl named Kristy. Like I said before, it always sucks when a child is involved, _especially_ when the child is the one that's dieing. What's even worse is that little Kristy doesn't even know what death is.

Can you say 'awkward conversation'? I mean, it's one thing to have to explain to a child how grandma has gone into a deep sleep and how you won't be seeing her for a very long time, but it's a _completely_ different situation when you have to explain death to someone who is already dead. How would you even word that?

_'Honey, you've gone into a deep sleep.' _No, that's not right because clearly you're awake.

_'Kristy, death is when your spirit leaves your body and moves on to another plane of existence via a shiny, bright light.'_ All that explanation earned me was a funny look from the five-year-old.

_'Kristy, when you die, you leave behind your friends and family for a while until they also die.'_ Way to go, JD, you made her cry.

_'Death, Kristy, is when you walk through a bright, sparkly light that transports you to a happy, magical place with puppies and kittens and all the candy you want. Heaven, do you know what heaven is, Kristy?'_ Well, now I'm just plain lying seeing as how I've never seen what's beyond that bright light.

Explanations of death to a five-year-old aside, that's not my biggest problem at the moment. My biggest problem right now is that I sorta, kinda, _lost_ two of my reaps. Phoebe was having some denial issues about the whole thing and Kristy, well, Kristy doesn't even know what death is, so she probably thinks this whole thing is one big game. Needless to say, I was being a big, dumb boy with cooties who was ruining their fun of being invisible (Kristy's words, not mine), so the two girls kicked me in the shin and made a run for it. I had been searching for them without any luck for the past half hour.

At least I still had Shawn on my side.

"So do you kill all of your patients, or am I just lucky?"

Then again, Shawn could only be so much help while he was in such a distressed state-of-mind.

"Do spirits eat?" he asked curiously. "Not that I'm hungry or anything, but I could _really_ go for some fast food."

"Could you stop thinking about your stomach for one minute and help me here?" I asked irritably.

"Dude, I'm not the one who couldn't keep track of two hyperactive girls," Shawn said, raising his hands defensively.

"I know, _I know!_" I griped, then sighed. "If I were a girl and I just found out that I was dead, where would I go?"

"Wow, that is the most _normal_ question I've ever heard asked before," Shawn said sarcastically.

Ignoring his comment, I stuck to my train-of-thought and muttered to myself, "I would probably be feeling extra emotional and want to see my family. However, neither of their parents are here, I saw one of the interns calling them up. So it would make more sense for them to wait at the hospital for their family to arrive."

"Yeah, but do you really think Phoebe would be thinking rationally at this moment?" Shawn pointed out. "Besides, you're looking at this all wrong. Phoebe's in the denial stage right now. Seeing her parents and having a cry-fest is probably the furthest thing from her mind. Plus, her and Kristy had been talking about having some fun before they kicked you in the shin, so they're probably goofing off somewhere, or something."

I blinked, surprised at his deduction, and said, "You're right. You know, you would've made a great detective."

"You and my dad, I swear!" he said, exasperated.

"Where would two girls be goofing off?" I wondered.

"Well, girls love to shop," Shawn said.

"The gift shop!" I exclaimed before grabbing Shawn by the collar of his hospital gown, "Come on, let's go!"

We raced to the elevators and took one down to the lobby where the gift shop was. As soon as the doors opened, I raced off toward the gift shop with Shawn by my side, matching my pace. We reached the gift shop in no time, and as expected, there were my two wayward reaps. Kristy was standing before a bin of stuffed animals, attempting to grab hold of one, only to fail miserably as her little hands fazed straight through the plush toy. She had apparently been doing this for awhile because she looked close to having a tantrum.

Meanwhile, Phoebe was racing around the lobby giggling like a maniac. She would pause in front of each person she came across and faze her hand into their head as if it had some sort of profound effect on the person. The whole act had both Shawn and me raising an eyebrow.

"Riiiiiight," Shawn said, sounding disturbed.

I shook my head before clapping my hands twice and shouting over the crowd so that the two girls could hear me, "Alright, you've had your fun! But now it's very important that I find your bright lights, so if you both will just come with me.."

"Aww, fun time's done," little Kristy sighed. "Mr. Boring is here."

"That's _Dr._ Boring," I corrected.

"We're not going anywhere with _Mr._ Boring until he catches us first!" Phoebe said with a cackle as she ran over to Kristy and grabbed hold of her hand. "Come on!"

As they once again ran off, I took chase and shouted after them, "Hey, wait! Come back!"

However, they weren't interested in anything I had to say and fazed through the nearest wall before I could catch them, and unfortunately for me, reapers don't possess the power to walk through walls. I screamed in frustration while pounding my fist against the wall a few times before sinking to my knees.

"Tough luck, dude," Shawn said from behind me.

As much fun as Shawn was, finding those two girls would be a lot easier if I had one less soul on my hands. So before I went looking for the little brats again, I needed to get Shawn to move on.

"Up for a trip to the cafeteria? I'll buy you whatever you want," I said, glancing over my shoulder at the boy.

He pumped his fist in the air and shouted, "Yes! I'm gonna stuff myself silly."

I saw no reason to tell him that souls don't eat.

* * *

My plan worked like a charm. As soon as we set foot in the cafeteria, Shawn's light appeared in the form of a restaurant. _Big_ surprise there. He stared at the double doors of the glowing building looking happier than I've ever seen him.

"Bugaboo Creek?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "I haven't eaten there in _years!_ Oh man, I'm gonna have one of every dessert they have. Especially the Big Foot Chocolate Cookie! Oh, oh! And then the Bunyan Onion, and the Snowbird Chicken."

He looked close to hyperventilating. If he weren't already dead, I'd actually be a little worried. After doing a near-perfect impression of Homer Simpson, he went racing off to the restaurant and disappeared through it's doors. Bugaboo Creek vanished in a flash of light, and everyone in the cafeteria ate on, completely unaware of what just happened.

"Was that your last one?" came Dan's voice from behind me.

I yelped, surprised, and spun around on one foot to face him. He simply smiled at me, amused by my reaction. Nobody batted an eye at the fact that he wasn't wearing a face mask, but I guess that's probably due to the fact that most of the people in the cafeteria weren't wearing their own face masks since you can't exactly eat with them on.

"Yes," I lied. "That was the last one for today."

There is no way I'm telling him that I lost two of my reaps. He'd never let me live it down. Er... die it down? No, that's not right. Afterlive it down? Is afterlive even a word?

"Great!" he said, pulling me from my musings, "Then you'll have plenty of time to join Turk and me for lunch."

Was it really lunch time already?

As Dan dragged me over to a table where Turk sat with his lunch, I looked down at my watch and said in complete confusion, "Dan, it's only 10:45. Why would you come here to have lunch anyways?"

"I was really bored and had finished all of my work today, so I decided to make it my personal mission to find something that will cheer you up," Dan said.

"O-kay," I said slowly, "and you thought you'd find it here in this hospital?"

"No, of course not!" Dan said, waving the question away. "I came here to get some ideas, so tell me, little brother, what makes you happy?"

"Hmm, let's see... _Sex_, Sanford & Son, more sex, and, oh yeah, you not being here!" I snapped.

"How about we do something wild and crazy tonight," Dan said, completely ignoring what I had just said before.

Sure, because that's always worked out _so well_ in the past.

**1923**

_I sat on the saddled horse, absentmindedly stroking her long neck while I waited for Dan to finish with.. whatever it was that he was doing. The horse shifted uneasily and I really couldn't blame her. The whole place had this creepy vibe to it. Silently wishing that Dan would just hurry up so we could get out of here, I murmured words of comfort to the horse. I didn't know what her name was or if she was even Dan's horse. In fact, I didn't know much of anything about what was going on and why Dan needed me here tonight. _

_Suddenly several gun shots went off in the building Dan had previously entered, and the horse screeched her protests at the sudden loud noise, rising up on her hind legs. I had to squeeze my own legs around her and hold onto the reins to keep from falling off. Just as I had managed to calm her down to the point where she was standing on all fours, Dan came bursting out of the building with a rather large bag of what I suspected was money in his hand. He raced over to the horse and I, and pulled himself up onto the saddle, squeezing in behind me. _

_"Ride, ride!" he shouted, smacking me on the shoulder a few times. _

_Without question, I kicked my legs against the horse's side, and we were out of there lickidy-split. It was a good thing too because just as we were riding away, two angry looking guys burst out of the same doors Dan did, both of them waving guns._

That was just the beginning of a long list of insane and ridiculous stunts Dan talked me into. To name a few, there was that suicide jump off of a bridge, that time we jumped into the snake pit at a zoo, and that time he _pushed_ me into the lion's den at a different zoo (this was before they put up three fences separating you from the big cats. In fact, I think my 'unfortunate death' was a big deciding factor for that rule). You know, looking back at it all, I'm starting to think that Dan has a weird thing with getting me killed and then either breaking me out of the morgue or digging me up after the funeral.

I shook my head at his proposal to do something wild and crazy and instead turned my attention to Turk, "Why are you eating lunch so early?"

"I got a surgery later on that's going to take up my lunch hour," he explained.

"Oh, okay."

"Speaking of wild and crazy plans for tonight, do you think Rowdy needs a bath?" Turk asked. "I don't think he's had one since that time Carla took him to get cleaned."

"I think you're right," I said, then sighed, "Poor Rowdy. With the hospital being so busy, he's been neglected."

"Wait, that's it!" Dan exclaimed.

"What's it?" I asked, confused.

"The perfect plan to cheer you up," Dan said.

"Seriously, Dan, I'm fine!" I snapped.

"No time for that now, Johnny. I've got things to do!" he announced dramatically as he rose from his chair and bounded away.

I twisted around in my own chair and called after him, "Dan, what are you planning? Dan!" I turned back around to Turk and whispered, "Turk, I'm scared."

"Relax, JD. He's probably just going to go give Rowdy a bath," Turk said reassuringly.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, because that would make the most sense. We were talking about getting Rowdy cleaned, and so he's going to give Rowdy a bath."

Oh, but when has anything Dan's ever done made sense?

Running my fingers through my hair stressfully, I said, "I got to get back to work anyways. There are a couple of patients I need to attend to."

Turk nodded, and as I got up from my chair to leave, I said over my shoulder, "Enjoy your lunch."

However, before I could leave, Turk called after me, "Hey, JD!" I looked back over at him. "What Dan was talking about before, the whole cheering you up thing, in his own weird way, he sounded kind of concerned... Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," I said with a smile, "I'm fine."

* * *

Sure, I'm fine, but I'll be _even better_ when I find those two girls. Where the hell could they be? I've looked everywhere! I've check pediatrics, the maternity ward, the roof, the gift shop for the second time, the elevator, both locker rooms (again, I'm loving the whole notice-me-not thing that comes with the job), and each time I came up with absolutely _nothing!_

I walked up and down each hallway searching for them, and just as I was beginning to think that perhaps they had already moved on, I heard crying coming from one of the patient's room. The very same room that Phoebe had stayed in while she was alive. I suddenly felt very stupid.

I walked into the room to see Phoebe sitting on her now empty bed hugging her knees to her chest with her chin resting on one knee, crying. The two other patients in the room slept on, completely oblivious to the distraught teenager. I walked over and sat down at the foot of her bed. She looked over at me and sniffled once, wiping at the tears running down her face.

I stayed silent, waiting for her to compose herself, and after several minutes of her wiping at her eyes, she said in a shaking voice, "Kristy's gone."

"Lights?" I murmured.

She nodded, "Yeah. This big, glowing, pumpkin carriage appeared out of nowhere and Kristy climbed in without a second thought. I tried to stop her, but..."

"The lights aren't bad, you know," I told her calmly. "They take you to where you need to go."

"Where would that be?" she asked, her crying beginning to wane.

"I'm not sure," I said truthfully. "But I do know that Kristy will be there, and so will anyone else you've lost."

"I'm a little scared," she admitted.

"That's perfectly normal, the unknown can be scary, but you can only move forward at this point," I said.

A pair of large double doors appeared where the windows used to be. The massive doors opened up to reveal a great hall, but not just any great hall, it was _The_ Great Hall.

"Harry Potter fan?" I asked.

She blushed, "Yeah."

We both got up from the bed and stood before the opened doors. Phoebe looked hesitant to enter.

Placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, I said, "Trust me, you'll love whatever's in there."

As she took a few more steps toward the Great Hall entrance, her hands curled into fists. Then, taking a deep breath as if the place might just be filled with water, she raced on inside. The doors snapped close behind her and disappeared in a flash. I heaved a sigh of relief as soon as the doors were gone and sunk back onto the bed.

Now that that's all taken care of for the day, I just have, let's see, only several long hours left before my shift was over. _Joy!_

* * *

_I think I'll end chapter 10 right here. I was going to do one more scene, but I decided that I'll start the next chapter with it instead. This one was getting a little long anyways and I still have to edit the damn thing. Okay, so let's go over a couple of things.. _

_Bugaboo Creek is an actual restaurant, and a fabulous one at that. The fact that, due to its location, I can only go once every year or so, probably makes the food even more special. _

_As for Shawn Gorvick, well, part-way through the chapter, I found myself channeling Psych's Shawn Spencer... except nineteen. _

_And what could Dan possibly be up to? You'll just have to wait and see. _

_Review please!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Greetings readers of fic! Here's chapter 11._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

There didn't seem to be any improvements in any of my patients throughout the rest of the day. Everyone was still feverish and delirious with their coughing and vomiting. Dr. Cox seemed to keep a level head though, despite his persistent fever. He was lucid enough to tell me that if I checked up on him one more time that day, he would stab me in the eye with his IV and squeeze the fluid bag it was attached to until my eye popped like a water balloon.

Isn't he just a freakin' ray of sunshine when bed-ridden?

I managed to escape the room with both eyes intact and finish up my shift for the day. Carla and Turk were finishing their own shifts at pretty much the same time and because none of us really felt like cooking (and we didn't want to rely on Dan for meals), they agreed to stop and pick up some dinner on the way home. While they were busy doing this, I grabbed a copy of today's newspaper and headed home on Sasha.

Having forgotten about Dan's scheme, when I walked into the apartment with the newspaper folded up under one arm, I was completely unprepared for whatever it was that I tripped over. Of all the places in the apartment to leave a large bag (was that dog food?), Dan leaves it right in front of the door way. I think he knew I was coming in and put it there on purpose.

"Dog food, Dan?" I asked as I pushed myself up onto my knees and glanced back at the large bag of, yup, dog food, or more specifically, Purina Puppy Chow.

"Johnny, you're home. Good," Dan said as he walked out of my room with a rawhide bone in hand and closed the bedroom door behind himself. "Do me a favor, move that bag before someone hurts themselves tripping over it."

"You mean like I did?" I asked irritably as I tossed the newspaper over onto the coffee table.

"I don't know why you're complaining, you can't get hurt," Dan pointed out.

Shoving the bag to one side of the door, I said, "Dan, not that I don't love that you've bonded with Rowdy and showered him with gifts, but," I paused for a moment to gaze around at all the dog stuff scattered about the room, "don't you think this is overkill?"

"This stuff isn't for Rowdy," Dan said as he tossed the bone on the couch before turning back to my room. He opened the door dramatically, then got down on his knees and, smacking his legs a few times, he gushed, "C'mere boy!"

I'm surprised that I was actually surprised when a furry black and tannish-brown form bolted out of my bedroom and straight into Dan's waiting arms. You'd think by now I'd be used to any impulsive decision that Dan makes or ever will make.

"You got a puppy?" I asked incredulously.

"I got _you_ a puppy," he said cheerfully as he stood up with the puppy in his arms. "Isn't he adorable!"

The little puppy wagged his tail wildly and showered Dan with slobbery kisses. I could tell right away that he was a German Shepherd. His fur had more black to it than it did brown, his paws looked too big for his body and his ears were still flopped forward as a sign of just how young he was. All in all, he was _very_ adorable. Still though, I couldn't let that cloud my judgment.

"Dan, I can't keep that dog," I sighed. "This apartment has a 'no pets' rule and it was hard enough convincing the landlord to let us have Rowdy. If he finds out we got a live dog, he'll flip!"

"Then don't tell him you have a dog," Dan explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It doesn't work like that," I said, exasperated. "Dogs need to be taken outside on walks and to use the bathroom, and they can be noisy. Someone's going to notice."

"Then move. You have that half-acre, so put a house on it," Dan said simply.

"I'm _still_ paying off loans, there's no way I could afford a house," I said. "You're going to have to bring him back."

Looking down at the puppy and then back up at me, Dan seemed to consider what I just said, before he pushed the puppy into my arms and cooed, "How can you say 'No' to this face?"

Apparently wanting to emphasize Dan's point, the puppy wagged his tail and licked my face as if I were a popsicle and it was a hot summer day. I grimaced at the slobber and adjusted my hold on the puppy so that he was facing forward, but that still didn't stop him from reaching his furry little head back and licking my chin.

"You see? Rin-Tin-Tin is too cute for words," Dan said.

"Rin-Tin-Tin?" I asked as I gently set the puppy down on the ground where he raced off to go grab a toy.

"I thought you'd bond better if he had a name," Dan explained.

"You're not naming the dog Rin-Tin-Tin," I said.

"Fine, you name him," Dan said, reasoning with me.

"No, I mean, you're not naming the dog because we're not _keeping_ the dog," I said. "I don't have time to train and take care of a dog."

"I'll take care of him when you're busy!" Dan exclaimed. "Besides, this is my gift to you. It would be rude of you not to accept it."

"This isn't just some DVD, Dan, this is a living, breathing creature that needs lots of attention; attention I can't give it," I pointed out.

The puppy came racing back over to me, dragging a stuffed animal (a goose, I think) that was way too big for him. He shifted his weight from paw to paw, his tail wagging a mile a minute, and lifted the toy up as much as he could to show it off to me. He shook the bird by its neck before dropping it onto my feet, his eyes begging me to play with him. Dan was right about one thing, this puppy had a face that I couldn't say no to. As I grabbed the toy off of the ground, the puppy stepped back a few paces, attempting to judge how far I could throw. Apparently he didn't think too much of my athletic abilities. I tossed the goose in a random direction and he went bolting after it.

"See, you're a natural at this," Dan said, smiling.

I rolled my eyes. Dan didn't seem to get it. Anyone could play with a puppy, and it's not like I don't know how to take care of a dog. I just don't have enough time to when I have to deal with this whole plague epidemic, as both a reaper and a doctor. There just aren't enough hours in the day to deal with all that plus a new puppy. That's like having three full time jobs and despite what one may think, the undead need to sleep too.

It was at this point that Carla and Turk got back from their fast food quest. Carla came in first carrying her purse and the keys to the apartment, and Turk was right behind her carry a couple large bags of what smelled like Chinese food. Carla was the first one to notice all of the dog paraphernalia scattered about the apartment due to the fact that Turk was too busy piling the bags of fast food onto the kitchen table.

"What's with all the dog stuff?" Carla asked suspiciously as she closed the front door before walking into the kitchen and setting her purse down on the counter, all the while she gazed around at the dog things that were invading the apartment.

As if to answer her question, the puppy, who had heard someone new entering the apartment, came running out from wherever it was he had been hiding with the toy goose once again being carried in his mouth.

"You got a dog?" she asked with wide eyes as she looked from Dan to me, as if asking who she could blame for this.

Having heard the word 'dog', Turk paused in his job of getting all of the fast food out of the bags and setting them up on the counter so he could see what had gotten Carla all flustered that had to do with a dog. Immediately upon seeing said dog, Turk shrieked, "We got a puppy?" then proceeded to do the 'we got a puppy' dance which was very similar to the 'we got a dog' dance that he did when we had bought Rowdy all those years back.

The puppy must have liked his dancing because he dropped his toy and bounded over to Turk and seemed to, in a way, join Turk in the 'we got a puppy' dance because he began jumping up and down around Turk's feet while yipping happily in a high tone that I knew would one day become a low, booming bark.

I almost melted right there.

Carla seemed to soften a bit too at the scene, however, never one to be diverted from a major issue, she said, "We can't have a dog in this apartment. There's a 'no pets' policy."

That fact brought Turk back down to earth and ceased his dancing, although the puppy continued jumping around like a hyperactive child on a sugar high.

"His name is Rin-Tin-Tin," Dan began.

"No," I interrupted with a sigh.

"Charlie?" Dan asked.

"No," I shook my head. It doesn't matter what he names the dog, I knew there was no way we could keep him, and because of that fact, I didn't want to get attached.

"Well, whatever his name will be, I got him as a gift for you all," Dan explained.

I thought he said the puppy was a gift for me... Wait, why am I even wondering this? We can't keep him!

"He'll be the perfect family dog," Dan said, as if that would change our minds about keeping the puppy.

"He's gonna have to be the perfect family dog for _someone else_ because he can't stay here," Carla said in a 'this discussion is over' tone. "There's a baby on the way, Dan, and there's no way that we're having a hyperactive pooch bouncing off the walls with a new baby in the house.

With a look of defeat on his face, Dan said, "At least keep him until I find him another home."

Carla pause to think about his proposition for a moment before she consented with a sigh, "Fine, but you're taking him to the hotel you'll be getting two days from now."

"You drive a hard bargain, Carla," Dan said, "but I accept your terms."

"Good," Carla said seriously, then smiled cheerfully and asked, "Who wants Chinese food?"

Creepy pregnancy mood-swings.

The rest of the night went well, or as well as a night could go with a new puppy in the house that had more energy than everyone at Sacred Heart combined. (_Play! Play! Play! Ball! Ball! Throw the ball! Bone! Bone! My bone! Mine!_) Plus, there's the fact that he wasn't exactly trained to go outdoors yet. Thankfully I had that newspaper to put down, though that was after I cut out all the necessary obituaries. Aside from all that, everything was going pretty well (Turk and I were relieved to see that Rowdy didn't seem to mind the puppy, probably because he knew the puppy wasn't staying).

Then it came time to go to bed...

Dan didn't get a crate, but he did manage to get a gate, so we put the puppy in the kitchen for the night so he wouldn't be wandering around while we slept and getting into who-knows-what. I had once again been forced out onto the couch by Dan, and was just beginning to get settled in with my pillow and blanket. The lights were all off, the door was locked, it was nice and quiet, and I was just beginning to drift off.

Then the whining started.

It was low and quiet at first, as if he was trying to be respectfully quiet, but still wanted to get someone's attention. That went on for a couple of minutes before he realized that no one was going to come if he didn't speak up. So his quiet whimpers turned into a loud, dragged out whine. I groaned irritably and hissed at him to be quite.

That worked for about a second before he went right back to his whining, except now he added a bark to the end of each whine.

"If someone doesn't shut that dog up _right now_, I swear...!" Carla snapped, leaving the threat hanging for our imaginations to run wild with.

A brief image of her sending us all straight to the pound flashed through my mind, and it wasn't one of the nice pounds either.

"You're the one who brought him, Dan!" I shouted into my room.

"You're closer," he called back.

"You said you'd help take care of him," I reminded him.

The puppy continued to cry.

"Only when you're busy, and you're not busy now!" Dan said.

I'm busy trying to sleep, but apparently that means nothing to him.

"Both of you shut up and take care of the dog!" Carla raged.

Either Turk was asleep or was wisely staying out of the whole thing.

With an audible groan of annoyance, I got up from the couch and dragged myself over to the kitchen. I plopped down in front of the gate where the puppy was currently sitting and staring up at me with those big eyes, whimpering to be let out of the kitchen. However, if I let him out now, I knew that he'd get the idea that if he whined enough, he'd get his way. So I wrapped my arms around my legs, set my head on my knees, I whispered to him soothingly.

"It's okay, you're alright. Shhh... You're alright. You're alright..."

He ceased his cries, but continued to sit there staring at me.

"You got to go to bed," I whispered. "Go to bed. Go to bed."

I repeated this over and over to him with drooping eyes, and then pretended that I had actually fallen asleep myself, sitting right there like that. It seemed to do the trick because as soon as I hid my face in my knees, I could hear him shuffling around, and when I cautiously cracked one eye open, I saw that he had laid down and had his eyes closed.

As carefully as I could, I got to my feet and tip-toed back to the couch. Unfortunately, on my way there, I stepped on a loose board and a creak that sounded deafening to my ears echoed in the room. I froze completely, my back stiff, as I waited to see if that had woken him up. Just when I was thinking I was home free, I heard him whine once again.

"_Damn_," I muttered as I walked back over to the front gate and sat down.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

I had fallen asleep like that, curled up in front of the gate. I was so stiff by morning that it took a full hour for reaper metabolism to kick in and heal my aching muscles. Before I started to get ready for work, I discretely took the puppy out a back door of the apartment to try and teach him to go outside rather than on the paper, but he didn't seem to understand the concept. Once that was out of the way, I went through my usual morning process, though quietly this time because Carla and Turk didn't have to be at work until a little later on. 

Just before I could leave the apartment, Dan popped out of my room just long enough to hand me some post-its. There were four of them:

D. J. Cimarron

R. I. Reigns

G. L. Dame

B. T. Drenelli

Their times were practically one right after the other, starting with D. J. Cimarron at 8:23. I hurried out the door to get there in time.

* * *

Based on how people react when they find out that they've died, I could easily organize them into several different categories. Yesterday, the categories my reaps fell into were 'Blissfully Unaware', 'Completely in Denial', and last but not least, 'Easy-Going Acceptance.' 

The easy-going one has to be one of my favorite categories. It's usually the older people who fall into that category. You know, the ones who feel they've gotten all they can out of life and have no problems with dieing at that point. Of course, as Shawn proved yesterday, there are some younger people who fall into that category, but those people are usually easy-going to begin with.

All four of my reaps fell into that category today. It was nice, sort of like a day off from the whole thing. Three of my reaps were women in their seventies and eighties, which would explain why there were still people dieing despite the cure. The elderly tend to not make it past epidemics like these. My fourth reap, however, was just plain unlucky.

Dean John Cimarron.

He was in his twenties, and while he seemed pretty okay with being dead, I still had to ask him, "How are you holding up, Dean?"

Dean gazed over at the three elderly women who were laughing and gossiping about anything that came to mind as if they were all old friends, and said, "To be perfectly honest, Death, I'm feeling a little out of place in this crowd. 'Awkward' would be the word to use."

All three women looked over at Dean and I before one of them said something and the other two laughed and nodded at whatever she said. Dean flashed them a winning smile that I could tell was forced, and the women laughed again and waved at us. We waved back, a bit awkwardly, and they laughed one more time before they went back to talking.

"What I meant was: How are you holding up with being dead?" I explained.

"Oh," Dean said, then smiled a real smile this time. "Really, Death, this is a dream come true. My mom died in a fire, my dad died of a heart attack, and my little brother was quite literally stabbed in the back by a mugger. I'm the last one left in my family, so I say bring on the bright lights!"

"It's such a shame that a handsome thing like you had to die at such a young age," one of the elderly women said as she and her two new buddies came over to join us in the conversation.

"I have a granddaughter that you would've been perfect for," commented one of the other elderly women.

"I'm sure I would've loved to meet her," Dean said, smiling that perfect smile again. He must have brushed a lot when he was alive because his smile was like something you'd see in a toothpaste commercial.

That's when a glowing 1967 Chevrolet Impala pulled up into the lounge we were standing in, passing straight through any walls that got in its way.

Yeah, that's right, I know a little something about cars. I was around when they first started being popular, after all. Don't underestimate me!

"Well, ladies, I would love to stay and chat, but that's my ride," Dean said, pointing behind him at the impala.

"Bye, Dean!"

"Say 'Hi' to your family for us! They sound so nice."

"Maybe we'll see you in the afterlife sometime!"

Dean smiled and waved at us before climbing in the impala and closing the door. The car drove off, straight through one of the walls and disappeared.

"What a nice boy."

"He had such a charming smile."

"Lord, he had a fine tush on him!"

They all burst into laughter.

Awkward was definitely the word for it.

"Why don't I walk you ladies to the door?"

* * *

_End of Chapter 11. I actually cut chapter 11 in half because it was getting a little lengthy and I still wasn't finished writing it. Plus, I figured you've all waited long enough for an update. _

_The reason why it's taken me so long to get this out is because I've recently started college and the work load is just unbelievable. I mean, I knew it'd be tough, but I didn't think I'd be spending 6 or 7 hours on homework alone and not even be finished with it! _

_So because school comes first, it'll take awhile for me to get chapters out. Please be patient. Oh, and on a side note for those of you who didn't notice, Dean Cimarron is basically Dean Winchester. Which reminds me, I don't own Supernatural. _

_Review please!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Greetings readers of fic! One little thing I want to say: College suuuuuucccckkss! Now that I've gotten that out of my system, here's chapter 12 for you, hot off the presses!_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

As soon as I brought the three elderly women outside the doors of Sacred Heart, a large cruise ship pulled right up into the parking lot. All three of them climbed aboard and waved goodbye to me from the side of the ship as it slowly sailed away. It seemed very fitting for them.

Once the ship disappeared in a flash, I went back inside the hospital to do my very best to keep anyone else from dieing today, or any other day for that matter. I started by checking up on all of my patients to see how they were faring. However, before I was even able to see my second patient, Elliot practically appeared out of nowhere and dragged me away. Because she had one of those full-blown, panicking looks on her face, I thought it best not to fight her.

Still though, I took a guess on what it was that had her so completely frazzled and said, "Elliot, I swear I'll help with the crowd in the lobby as soon as I'm done checking up on all of my patients."

She shoved me into the _employees only_ lounge where I noticed several other doctors and nurses, including Carla, were milling about, and while I couldn't see their mouths through the facemasks, I could tell they looked just as worried as Elliot.

"What's going on?" I asked with curious concern.

"It's not working!" Elliot squawked, and at my confused look, she elaborated, "The cure. It has no effect. There was just this big news report on it."

That's when I noticed that the TV was on, and sure enough, the reporter was repeating what the different specialists had just confirmed. However, I didn't need to hear the report because Elliot summed it all up for me in a high-pitched tone.

"Streptomycin, tetracyclines, gentamicin, chloramphenicol, and doxycycline, none of them are having any effect on the Y. pestis bacterium. That new biovar that Kelso was talking about is a mutation that makes Y. pestis completely immune against all of our antibiotics!"

I felt a wave of dread crash over me. It just couldn't be possible, it couldn't be happening, and yet I knew that it was true. The past couple days, all the people that had died despite being on antibiotics, they weren't taken out in the last few lashes of the epidemic, they were just the beginning.

"What're we going to do, JD?" Elliot asked me, as if she hoped that, while she couldn't come up with an answer to this dilemma, just maybe I had some sort of idea or magic cure.

But there wasn't a magic cure to this thing, at least not one that we knew of. There wasn't anything that we could do. All these people in the hospital were infected without hope, and if it's not Dan, than it'll be me to get the post-it and reap every last one of them.

Times like these makes me want to piggy-back the next bright light off of this planet.

Breaking many of us from our musings, Carla gestured to the news report and brought up a very good point, "Are the people in the lobby watching this? What about the patients?"

"Frick!" Elliot snapped and raced out of the lounge with many other doctors and nurses on her tail.

It would only be a matter of time before the news spread and chaos erupts in Sacred Heart, and yet instead of running off to assist Elliot or any of my other colleagues with the imminent panic, I headed straight to Dr. Cox's room. I don't know why seeing him suddenly became my top priority and I don't know why I ran the whole way there due to the fact that there was nothing I could do for him or anyone else in the hospital. I guess I just needed to see that he was still breathing, which was ridiculous considering the fact that I practically get a list of who's going to die for the day, and he definitely wasn't on today's list.

When I got to the room, I saw Jordan sitting in a chair pulled up next to the bed and Dr. Cox looking very much awake and aside from his pale complexion and his obvious exhaustion, he didn't appear any closer to death today than he did yesterday. The TV was off and judging from the looks on their faces, neither of them had heard the news yet.

Jordan glanced over at me standing in the doorway and said, "It looks like DJ has some business here with you, so I'll leave you ladies to talk."

After a quick order to Dr. Cox to get better soon (_or else_), Jordan went back to work and I was left alone in the room with him. He smiled tiredly and said in a tone that lacked his usual vigor, "Hannah, it's so good to see that you're actually doing your job and keeping your head out of the clouds."

"How are you feeling?" I asked in a strained voice as I picked up his chart and glanced over it. He still had a fever and he'd already been given his dose of streptomycin, not that it even really matters anymore now that we know it has no effect.

"My head's killing me," Dr. Cox said honestly. "Not to mention I have this _re-heally_ annoying cough."

I forced out a laugh that sounded more like a grunt, but Dr. Cox didn't comment. He simply lay there and watched as I checked him over. While I wasn't exactly in the mood to laugh, I'd rather have him joke (heck, I'd rather have him ridicule me), than to have him fall silent like that.

I checked his blood pressure and his temperature (which had risen from 99.8 up to 100.7 degrees Fahrenheit) and wrote the updated information on his chart. Once I finished that, I was left standing there with nothing to do. He was already hooked up to all the right IVs and he didn't need any medicine. I could have left right then and there with the excuse that I had to check on some other patients, but I didn't because the reason why I had gone straight to Dr. Cox's room (aside from checking to see if he was doing alright) was to break the news to him. He had a right to know what was going on, and since I'm his doctor, I figured I should be the one to tell him.

I put away his chart as slowly as I could, trying to buy time to figure out how I wanted to tell him. I didn't know if I should just be blunt about it and get straight to the point, or if I should be vague and let him figure it out on his own.

"Newbie, is there a reason you're standing there staring at me?" Dr. Cox asked in annoyed curiosity.

"We have a problem," I said.

My face must have appeared grave because I swear that I saw worry flash across his eyes, however, he remained completely composed when he asked, "A problem?"

"There's been reports all over the news, and if I went down to the labs, they'd confirm the same thing," I said somberly. "The antibiotics aren't working against the plague bacterium."

Dr. Cox let out a long sigh, almost as if he suspected something like this was happening. Who knows, maybe he did suspect it. Maybe he could feel himself getting worse and thought that perhaps the medicine wasn't working quite right.

"Are any of them working?" he asked monotonously. "Any of them having any effect?"

"None that we know of," I replied quietly.

Dr. Cox stared down at his lap, like he was thinking over his options. I basically just told him that there was no hope of recovery, that he was going to die, and in a true 'Dr. Cox fashion', his face remained completely expressionless as he continued to stare down at his lap. I bet right now he would love nothing more than to head to a bar for some scotch.

Several long minutes dragged on, neither of us saying anything. My gaze kept jumping from the floor to Dr. Cox and then back again. He furrowed his brow as if he was having a mental debate.

God, he looked so defeated at the moment.

"I could try something else," I said suddenly, surprising even myself by talking. I wasn't ready to give up. "If streptomycin isn't working, than maybe tetracyclines will."

Dr. Cox sighed and shook his head, "No, I was taking tetracyclines and I still got sick."

"Then we'll try something else. Maybe the two most common and most effective treatments aren't working because whoever spread the disease knew that we would try them first, so they made the disease resistant to them," I guessed, feeling a bit more hopeful because of the theory. "I could always try gentamicin, chloramphenicol, or even doxycycline."

"If you think it will help," Dr. Cox said, though he still sounded a bit unsure.

"We'll never know if we don't try," I pointed out positively as I grabbed his chart and scribbled a couple notes down on it. "You just hang in there and I'll get right on it."

I quickly left the room. I was a man on a mission, however, before I could actually get to said mission, I was called down to the front desk of the lobby by a Mr. Charlie Rin-tin.

God dammit, Dan.

With a growl, I walked over to the elevator and took it down to the first floor. I stormed out of the elevator and down to the lobby, and when people saw me, well, they raised an eyebrow in my direction because 'royally pissed off' isn't usually a look they see on me.

When I reached the lobby, I was met with quite a sight. Dan was leaning against the front desk with a leash in his hand and the puppy standing by his feet. He was surrounded on all sides by children eager to see the puppy who in turn was thrilled at all the attention he was getting. Meanwhile, a nurse from the front desk was currently yelling at Dan, saying that he couldn't bring a dog into the hospital, and also telling him that he needs to be wearing a face mask and that he can pick one up by the door.

"Dan!" I snapped. "What do you want? I'm _really_ busy."

"I decided to bring Hobo by to socialize with people," Dan explained. "You don't want him to become one of those 'when dogs attack' stories, do you?"

Dare I ask?

"Hobo?"

"Yeah, you know, _The Littlest Hobo._ He traveled around doing good deeds. It was a TV show in the eighties," Dan said.

"Hm, I don't remember that one," I mumbled, thinking back.

"That's too bad, it was a good show," Dan said.

"What is that dog doing in my hospital?" a voice snapped from behind us.

We both jumped and twisted around to see Kelso standing there looking thoroughly pissed.

"Do you have any idea what kind of germs that animal is bringing in here?" he growled.

"I think dog germs are the least of your problems right now," Dan pointed out humorously.

Kelso, however, was not amused. He glared at Dan before turning his gaze to me and asking, "Do you know this person, Dr. Dorian?"

"He's my brother," I sighed. "And he was just leaving, weren't you, Dan?"

All of the kids that were playing with the puppy 'awwed' at the thought of their new, furry little friend leaving.

"What about little Hobo's socialization skills?" Dan asked with a mock pout.

"You're not naming him Hobo because we're not keeping him," I hissed, then said, "Take him to the park, take him to a store, take him anywhere but here. Just go! I've got far too much on my plate as it is, I can't be dealing with this right now!"

"Fine, fine," Dan said with his hands raised defensively. "No need to bite my head off."

Before I could respond to that, my pager went off. I pulled it out with a sigh and quickly read the message.

Oh, no..

I raced from the lobby before Dan or Kelso could even blink and headed straight for the elevator. One of my interns paged an SOS to me, telling me to get to Dr. Cox's room immediately. They didn't say what was wrong but I knew that whatever it is, it couldn't be good.

I waited for the elevator to take me to the third floor, my foot tapping impatiently. In the time it took for me to go see Dan, what could have possibly gone wrong? I didn't get a post-it for him today, so it couldn't have been fatal. Then what was it? What could have happened? Can't this stupid elevator go any faster? I should have taken the stairs. I swear, if this is some sort of minor intern freak-out, heads will roll!

There was a ding and the doors opened. I shot out of there like a bat out of hell, and almost ran straight into Jack Castello.

"Outta my way Castello!" I snapped, pushing him to the side.

He fled down the hall with a whimper. You know, it was funny at first, but his fear for me is starting to get a little old.

When I finally reached Dr. Cox's room, I took in the scene around me. Two of my interns, Keith and Lisa, stood near the wall looking a little tired and staring down at Dr. Cox. Anyone else who might have been in the room before I got there had already left to get back to other patients. As for Dr. Cox, well...

He was unconscious, and his once pale face was now flushed with fever. To top it all off, he had a tube going down his throat. All in all, he wasn't looking too good.

"What happened?" I croaked, suddenly feeling very tired myself.

"Respiratory failure," Keith said. "His fever spiked too."

"We gave him an antipyretic to bring it down," Lisa said, and both her and Keith looked to me as if asking if they had done the right thing.

"Good," I said, reassuring them. I glanced over at all the different monitors, and then to the respirator. "One of you needs to go tell Jordan."

They both suddenly looked horrified.

"But Dr. Dorian," Lisa said, "she'll kill the messenger!"

"Yeah," Keith agreed. "She scares the hell out of me."

"I'll let you decide who has to go," I said, then dismissed them from the room.

I knew that I had other patients I had to treat, other patients that were just as bad, or maybe even worse off than Dr. Cox was, but I just couldn't pull myself to leave the room and get back to work. I slumped down into the seat placed next to his bed, and with a sigh, I buried my face in my hands.

Just moments before, he had been fine. Well, not completely fine, but at least he was conscious and pretty much breathing on his own if you didn't count the nasotracheal intubation. The whole thing just seemed so unreal. Dr. Cox was too strong to be brought down like this. In fact, the entire time that I've known him, I don't think I've ever seen him get sick. _Really_ sick, I mean. Not just some hangover. That didn't count.

Yet, as unreal as the whole situation felt, nothing made it more real to me than the hiss of the respirator, the beeping of the monitors, and seeing him there in bed looking so.. completely.. vulnerable.

But I couldn't give up. Not just yet. I could still cure him. There were other antibiotics I could try, and time was of the essence.

I got up from the chair and left the room, pretty much speed-walking the entire way to the supply closet where I knew the medicine lay. This had to work. It had too...

* * *

Jordan was in the room when I came back to administer the antibiotic. I was going to try gentamicin first. It was one of the more recent treatments and was worth a try. 

"What are you doing?" Jordan asked. "I heard that none of the treatments were working."

"I'm not giving up just because some news reports say we're all doomed," I said as I injected the antibiotic into his IV. "I know that streptomycin isn't working and I know that tetracyclines isn't doing its job because he still got sick when he was taking that, but there are still lots of other antibiotics I haven't tried yet."

"What do you think his chances are," she asked quietly, not looking up from Dr. Cox's face.

I paused for a moment, before hesitantly saying, "I don't know."

Although I couldn't see her mouth through the mask, I was pretty sure she was frowning at this point.

Discarding the empty needle, I said, "There are a few other patients I have to see."

She nodded.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes at me and snapped, "_Yes,_ I'll be okay DJ. Unlike you, I'm not a little girl. I'm pretty sure I can handle things here."

"Okay," I said, then walked to the door, but before I left, I paused in the doorway and asked, "About my intern that came and told you the news, should I be worried for their well-being?"

"His hair will grow back, and that cut probably won't even scar," Jordan said dismissively.

'_Poor Keith,_' I thought, shaking my head.

As I walked away from the room, I could have sworn I heard Jordan say in a mildly distraught voice, "You're such a girl, letting this get the best of you. You better not leave me and Jack alone..."

If anyone ever asked, I would deny ever hearing Jordan's one vulnerable moment. I knew she'd find some way to actually manage to kill me if I ever told a soul.

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur of activity. By now, everyone in Sacred Heart was aware of how ineffective the antibiotics were and with this knowledge came chaos. Families that were unable to see their loved ones due to Kelso's new rule to avoid exposure were tying up the phone lines trying to get some information on the situation. Many of the patients were in hysterics and had to be sedated. Believing that they were doomed to die, some of the patients actually got sicker, as if their bodies were giving up on life. 

Thankfully, I managed to restore some hope in my patients by telling them what I told Jordan. Those of my patients who were actually conscious fully supported my plan to try a different antibiotic.

In between checking up on all my patients and answering any questions my interns had, I also went down to help out with the insanity that was taking place in the lobby and the waiting room. The majority of people that were there were complaining of plague symptoms, and I helped weed out the hypochondriacs from the actual sickies. I think there were only three people in the waiting room who were actually there for a reason other than the plague, and they avoided everyone else as best they could.

Despite all the previously mentioned madness, everything was actually going pretty well. Lavern managed all the phone calls like a pro, and everyone in the waiting room and lobby eventually got to where they needed to go. Everyone in the hospital was working together like a finely-tuned machine.

Although there was _one_ small incident.

One of my interns had paged me asking for some patient help, so I had been on my way down the hall when it happened. It was no one's fault really, just an unfortunate accident. I turned a corner of the hall at the same exact time a nurse was pushing a cart with a couple trays of hospital supplies on it. You know, needles, medicine, scalpels, the works. We collided with each other and both the cart full of supplies and I went crashing down.

While the nurse apologized profusely and repeatedly asked if I was okay, I hid the hand that had been impaled by one of the scalpels behind my back and told her with a forced smile that no harm was done. I couldn't let her see my hand because if she did, then she would want to get it stitched up and maybe get an x-ray, and by the time that got done, the wound would have already healed itself. That would cause many unwanted questions.

So I grit my teeth, kept a smile on my face, and helped her pick up the supplies with my good hand. I quickly sent her on her way and as soon as she was out of sight, I turned my attention to my hand with a miserable whine.

"Oh _God,_" I hissed, my voice higher than usual. With my good hand, I grabbed hold of the scalpel and ripped it out quick, like a Band-Aid, with yelp of, "Shit! _Shit!_"

"Oh my God!" I heard a cry coming from my left.

My gaze snapped over to see Jack staring at my bloody hand with a horrified look on his face. So, reacting like an injured animal, I snapped at him, "You got something to say to me, Castello? 'Cause if not, you better get out of my sight in three, two-"

He was already in the elevator, pressing buttons frantically before I could finish. With a sigh, I looked back at my hand to see the wound all healed up. I vaguely wondered if he saw too much, but then quickly brushed aside my worry. He's seen worse than this from me and he was far too afraid of me to do anything about it.

Wiping the blood off on my scrubs, I continued on my way down the hall to help an intern with a patient.

When my shift finally ended, it was well into the night and I was so exhausted that I didn't even feel like getting a newspaper for the obits. I was on my way up to the third floor to check on Dr. Cox again when I was stopped by Carla.

"I know your shift is over, Bambi, so why are you still here?" she asked.

"I was just going to check on Dr. Cox before I left," I said tiredly.

"I just checked on him, his condition's no different," Carla told me. "Now leave while you still can. Go home and go straight to bed."

"Yeah, okay," I sighed. "I am kinda tired.."

Elliot had already gone home and both Carla and Turk's shift went a couple hours after mine, so I dragged myself outside, hopped on Sasha, and drove home. Dan was already asleep in my bed by the time I got there, and the puppy was once again confined to the kitchen, crying to be let out. It was a wonder Dan could sleep through it. I had a feeling the neighbors weren't having as much luck sleeping as Dan was. It wouldn't be too long before the landlord found out about our little visitor.

I stared down at the puppy and he stared back up at me, still whining in the back of his throat. I knew I'd never be able to get to sleep with that noise, and there was no way I would be spending another night curled up in front of the gate again.

I opened the gate with a defeated sigh and said, "Come on."

The puppy wagged his tail gratefully and followed me into the living room. I collapsed onto the couch and half-heartedly pulled the blanket over me. A second later, the puppy was up on the couch with me and curled up on my stomach.

"Don't expect this to be an every-night thing," I mumbled to him before I fell asleep.

* * *

_Yes! End of chapter 12! I finished this chapter sooner than I thought I would. The next update won't be as quick. Sorry!  
_

_D: Poor Dr. Cox! And Jordan... and JD... Hell, everyone's having a pretty tough time right now. _

_Review please!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Greetings readers of fic! After a long week without internet access (stupid campus), I bring you chapter 13.  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel the puppy still sleeping on my stomach and a couple of post-its stuck to my forehead. I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen, probably making breakfast. With a sleepy groan, I opened my eyes and pulled the post-its from the forehead. I quickly flipped through them, there were only two, before sighing in relief.

Dr. Cox was safe for another day.

By now the puppy had woken up with all my shifting around, and after giving me an annoyed look, he hopped off of me and padded into the kitchen.

"Yeesh, sorry for waking you, your Majesty," I muttered as I too got up and headed into the kitchen.

Dan was standing by the stove making pancakes and bacon again. He didn't acknowledge me as I poured some dog food into a bowl for the puppy, nor did he throw me a glance when I walked up beside him to the sink and filled up another bowl, this time with water, for the puppy standing by my feet.

Finally, after a long moment of silence, I leaned against the fridge and said, "Good morning."

Dan glanced over his shoulder at me for a second before returning his attention to making breakfast.

"Morning," was all he said.

"I won't be able to stay for breakfast," I told him. "I want to get dressed real quick and head down to the hospital to check on Dr. Cox."

"Okay," Dan said as he finished the last of the breakfast and turned off the stove. "I'll be heading out early too. I got some stuff to do."

"Like what?" I asked curiously.

"Well, the usual job-related stuff," Dan said. "I also want to sign Rex up for obedience training and I need to get a hotel room too."

"Oh good," I heard Carla say and quickly folded up the post-its and hid them in one hand as her and Turk came out of their room.

Dan dished out the food for Carla and Turk, but left the plate he had gotten out for me empty since I was leaving early. They both sat down and began digging in.

Carla paused in eating and looked at both Dan and I, "Aren't you two eating?"

"We're leaving early, no time for breakfast," Dan said as he walked around the apartment and gathered up what he needed.

Carla threw me a disapproving look, so I raised my defensively and said, "I'll grab breakfast at the hospital, okay?"

She nodded before going back to eating and I walked over to Dan just as he was attaching a lease to _Rex's_ collar.

"Obedience school?" I asked. "Really, Dan, for a dog we're not keeping?"

"So he'll be trained for his new owners," Dan supplied lamely, unable to come up with a better excuse.

"Don't waste your time; I'm putting up a 'free to good home' sign at the hospital today," I said. "And his name isn't Rex."

"Aww, come on," Dan said, pouting. I raised an eyebrow at him, not buying his act for a second. He dropped the pout and rolled his eyes at me, "If you got your own house, you could keep him."

"Can't afford it, remember?" I said, before I turned away from him and headed to my room to get dressed for the day. Behind me I could hear the front door opening and closing as Dan left with the dog. I shook my head, sighing, then got dressed in record speed. I gave a quick wave to Carla and Turk before I was out the door and on my way to the hospital.

* * *

After writing up a quick notice about the free puppy and sticking it up on the bulletin board, I managed to get a copy of today's newspaper as well as yesterday's newspaper to take up with me to Dr. Cox's room. Jordan wasn't in the room yet when I got there, which wasn't surprising considering it was so early in the morning, and because I didn't have to worry about my shift or my reaps for a while, I was able to take the time to sit down in the chair next to his bed and cut out some obits; after checking up on him of course. 

A quick look at his chart told me that there had been no improvements. If anything, he had gotten worse. His temperature had risen to a dangerous level again during the night and they had to work to bring it down. He also still hadn't regained consciousness since yesterday. It didn't look good, and despite the lack of a post-it, I was worried. I didn't know how much longer he could last like this.

I checked his temperature. It was 101 degrees Fahrenheit, which was low considering how high it had been, but it still wasn't good. I scribbled the information on his chart before plopping down in the chair by his bed and opening up yesterday's newspaper. Not having scissors, I was forced to rip out the different obituaries, and with each obit I ripped out, I would look up at my mentor; keeping an eye out for any changes, good or bad.

That occupied me until it was time to clock in to my shift for the day as well as take care of my reaps. They were both located in the same room and happened at just about the same time which was nice because it was super convenient. I had enough time to check up on two of my patients before I had to go collect the two souls; one was at eight AM, the other was at eight twenty-two.

Interestingly enough, it was an old married couple, and while they weren't exactly thrilled about being dead, they didn't find any fault in me.

"I blame you," the old woman with the white curly hair said to her balding, white-haired husband.

"How is this my fault?" he asked incredulously.

"You're always at that germy lodge with your buddies," she said. "You're disgusting! You probably brought the plague right into our house."

"What about you and all those other biddies you're with? You could have caught it from one of them and then given it to me," he said. "I blame _you!_"

"For your information, my friends and I keep our houses very clean!" she protested. "There's no way any of us gave it to you."

"Clean?" he said, laughing. "I'm surprised we weren't poisoned by all that anti-bacterial spray you use."

"There's no such thing as too much anti-bacterial spray," she said stubbornly.

"Three cans a day is too much!" he snapped.

"I do _not_ use that much," she said indignantly.

"Regardless of who spread what," I said, stepping in between them, "it's time for you both to move on."

"We'll move on when we're good and ready, _Mr. Grim Reaper_," the old man said, poking me in the chest.

"Move on like this?" his wife asked in disbelief as she gestured at her hospital gown. "Don't tell me I'm going to be spending all of eternity with my caboose showing for all to see."

"I'm sure you get to change once you walk through the light," I reassured her.

"You mean you don't know what's beyond the light?" the old man asked, giving me a belittling look. "What kind of grim reaper are you?"

"Not a very good one," his wife supplied.

"That's for sure," he agreed.

Hey, since when is it 'pick on Death' day?

It seemed a little weird to me that I was actually offended that someone thought I was bad at being a grim reaper. I retreated a few steps back, like a dog with its tail between its legs. The elderly couple gave me a synchronized dirty look before turning back to each other.

"Can you believe this guy?" the old woman said, pointing over at me with her thumb.

"What I can't believe is that I died at the same time as you," the old man said. "Where's the break?"

It's funny how truthful people become once they're dead.

"For your information, Mr. Dramatic, I died twenty-one minutes before you," the old woman pointed out.

"Yeah, and they were the most peaceful twenty-one minutes of my life," he said with a smile.

The entrance to an old fashioned theater appeared in lights and written up where the title of a play or movie would usually be was 'The Afterlife or Something Like It.'

The old man eyed the theater before turning to his wife and saying, "The theater? This is your doing, isn't it woman?"

"Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes. "You never took me anywhere while we were alive. The least you could do is take me to at least one show now that we're dead." before he could protest, she hooked her arm around his and screeched, "Now walk me in like a gentleman!"

Grumbling under his breath, he walked her through the doors of the theater and then they were gone.

"Thank God!" I breathed.

Starting out the day with those two made the rest of the day look pretty good in comparison. Granted, two people threw up on me and one of my patients went into respiratory failure, but I had an extra backup pair of scrubs and we managed to get my patient breathing again, so it wasn't that bad. In between answering pages, setting a broken leg, and generally running around to deal with all the chaos, I was checking up on Dr. Cox more frequently than any of my other patients.

Jordan stopped by at one point to check on him and get an update, but it was only for a brief moment. She left with the excuse that she wasn't some helpless housewife who needed to stay by his bedside for hours on end and that she did still have work to do and a son to take care of. I bet she was just afraid of looking vulnerable and wanted to keep up her 'ice bitch' image. Maybe I should find some time to go talk to her about it...

'_She'll __**kill**__ you_' I reminded myself.

Right, better not. I could send an intern to do it though. Now where's Keith...

"Johnny!" I suddenly heard Dan call out. I looked over to see him running to me from down the hall. "I'm so glad I've found you!"

"You could have had someone page me," I pointed out.

"No time!" Dan said before shoving a post-it into my hand. "I missed one of your post-its. It must have fallen off your head when you were sleeping and then stuck to my shoe when I left the apartment this morning."

I glanced down at the post-it and mumbled, "Are you sure? The glue on these things aren't that strong."

That's when I actually got a good look at the thing.

_J. L. Koton  
Burger King  
78 Marlen St  
E.T.D. 1:22PM_

I blanched, "Dan, this is in twenty minutes! Why would I even be given something outside of the hospital when you're here?"

"Yes, yes, it's all very confusing and inconvenient, but if you don't leave now, you'll miss him," Dan said as he started pushing me towards the elevator.

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "I still need to clock out, put my charts away, and grab some of my stuff from my locker."

"I'll grab your stuff from your locker, you take care of the other stuff, and I'll meet you at the entrance," Dan said quickly.

"Okay."

"What's your locker number and combination?" he asked as he headed to the stairs.

"It's number forty-seven and the combination is two, fifteen, and five," I said, then asked, "Why are you taking the stairs? The elevator is right here."

"The stairs will be quicker," he explained. "I'll see you in a few minutes!"

He disappeared down the stairs and I stepped into the elevator and took it down to the second floor where the Nurses' Station was located. I put my charts away and clocked out with the excuse that I was grabbing lunch. I sent a quick page to all of my interns to look after my patients while I was out, and then I was off to the front entrance. Dan was already there with the keys to my scooter and my hairmet.

"Are you coming with me?" I asked as I grabbed my keys and hairmet.

"What, you need me to hold your hand?" he asked condescendingly.

"No," I huffed.

"Then hurry up and go, you have fifteen minutes!" he said, pushing me towards Sasha.

I looked at my watch and squawked. One-ten? More like twelve minutes. I locked the hairmet onto my head and raced the rest of the way over to Sasha. Thankfully, the Janitor didn't mess with her, and she started without any problems at all. I sped out of the parking lot at speeds that weren't safe for anyone alive.

Fortunately for me though, I'm dead.

When I finally reached the Burger King on Marlen street, it was almost one-thirty. I missed it, so now I had to find the body of this Koton person. I parked Sasha in the Burger King parking lot and set my hairmet onto her seat.

I searched the outside of the Burger King first, but Koton was nowhere to be seen, so I went into the Burger King, hoping to find the person in there. Maybe it was a worker. However, there was no dead body in sight, not even in either bathroom. That's right, not even in the Lady's room.

You'd think if one of the co-workers died in the back somewhere, there'd be some sort of commotion among the other workers, but I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. However, I wasn't about to leave without checking _all_ of the building, so I snuck into the Employees Only room and searched around there. Still though, there was nothing.

"Sir, you can't be back here."

I jumped about a foot in the air, surprised that someone actually saw me. As I have said before, while on the job, I'm just another face in the crowd, even if there's not much of a crowd. I have the choice of whether or not I want to interact with the people around me, and yet the girl before me could see me as clear as day.

"Sorry, I got lost. Uh, where's the bathroom?" I asked meekly.

After the Burger King worker lead me out of the back rooms, I could see from the suspicious looks the other workers threw me that I wasn't wanted there, and felt it was in my best interest to leave. After circling the building one last time without any luck, I decided I better head back to the hospital and tell Dan what happened.

In the plague division it was unheard of for a reap to not show up for their due date. It happened a few times in other divisions, like external influence, but in the plague division, it just wasn't possible for someone so critically ill to not show up for their date of death.

By the time I got back to Sacred Heart, it was two O'clock in the afternoon. I didn't see Dan right away, so I decided to stop off at the locker rooms first to put away my keys and hairmet. Stopping in front of my locker, I turned the lock...

'_Two right, fifteen left, five right..._'

..and when I pulled open the door, sitting there in my locker was a small cake. I paled at the sight of it, and my knees felt week. There was a short message on it written in red frosting that read:

_JD  
I'm on the roof.  
Dan_

He must have put it in there when he grabbed my stuff from my locker, but did that mean that he planned out this whole thing, or did it just work in his favor?

_I'm on the roof._

What did that even mean? Was he really on the roof, or...

_'Hey, Grandma's on the roof, and we can't get her down, but we'll keep you posted.'_

Not knowing what else to do, I ran as fast as I could up to the roof of the hospital. I was in mission mode and ignored everything and everyone around me. When I finally reached the top, I slammed the door open and looked around wildly as I stepped out onto the roof. I didn't have to look far to see Dan standing by the ledge, staring out at the view of the town.

Having heard the door open, he glanced over his shoulder at me then said lightly, "Hey, Joey. I see you got my message."

"Dan, what's going on?" I asked as I walked over to him. "That Koton person _never_ showed up, and when have you ever heard that happening in our division?"

"There is no J. L. Koton," Dan sighed. "I made him up to keep you busy for a little bit."

"Why would you need to do that?" I asked suspiciously. "I'm plenty busy here at the hospital, and another thing, what's with the cake?"

"You know what the cake is for," Dan muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"No, I'm not quite sure I do," I said irritably.

"I'm leaving Joey!" he snapped, glaring at me, but then his gaze softened and he smiled. "I'm moving on up; being promoted."

I was speechless. I couldn't believe that this moment had finally come. Dan had always been there, ever since 1902, and despite him being over three hundred years old, I felt like he'd never leave. With all the reaps that had been going on lately, it never even crossed my mind that he might be going soon. Suddenly Dan didn't seem so immortal. He was dieing again and I was losing my brother.

"I've reached my quota, Joey," he said quietly. "I already got my death certificate in order, so you don't have to worry about that. If anyone asks, I died in a fiery car explosion, so there's nothing left of my body. You can hold a memorial for a cremation urn if you want to keep up appearances, but I don't care either way."

It was so much to take in at once, and then something suddenly occurred to me.

"Who?" was all I managed to ask.

Dan pulled a red post-it out of his pocket, and stared down at it, hesitant to look at me.

"I got a red post-it for the occasion," he said absentmindedly.

"Who is it, Dan?" I asked forcefully.

He sighed and slowly held out the post-it to me. I snatched it out of his hand, looked down at it and-

"Oh God."

_P. C. Cox  
Sacred Heart Hospital  
Room 312  
E.T.D. 2: 40PM_

My eyes shot down to my watch. It was two-sixteen... I still had time.

"I'm sorry, Joey."

I wasn't listening; my entire focus was on Dr. Cox. I was already speeding down the stairs before Dan could say another word. All the reaper logic that I had learned over the last century had flown out the window, and the only thing going through my mind was that if I could save Dr. Cox, Dan wouldn't have to leave and Dr. Cox wouldn't have to take his place as reaper. It was a win/win situation!

When I finally reached his room, it was two-nineteen. My heart was pounding. I raced to his bedside as the machines he was hooked up to started sending off alarms. He wasn't getting enough oxygen despite the respirator, his lungs were failing. His skin was already turning a light shade of blue and he was going into shock.

Suddenly all around me, doctors and nurses swarmed into the room. They were shouting out symptoms and asking me for orders.

"The respirator's not working," I said, falling into doctor-mode. "We need to suction out his lungs."

We got to work inserting an in-line suction catheter and cleared his lungs and airways as best we could of the mucus and whatever else the plague was coating it with. When that was done, we put him on humidified oxygen to help with his hypoxia, but still, it didn't help.

"His BP rate is dropping."

"Get a crash cart in here!" I shouted.

Nothing was working. His lungs were so infected, so clogged that nothing was getting through.

He flatlined and I felt a block of ice form in my stomach.

"Start chest compressions," I said to one intern. "Where's that crash cart!"

"I got it right here!" Carla shouted as she wheeled the cart into the room. She looked professionally calm and composed, but I could see the fear in her eyes.

I charged up the defibrillator and the intern doing the chest compressions stepped aside. Bringing the paddles down, I shouted, "Clear!" and a shock ran through his body. Dr. Cox arched up from the bed for a brief second before falling limp. My gaze shot over to the heart monitor to see no change. I charged the paddles again, this time at a higher setting, and brought them down onto his chest. He arched up as the shock ran through him, then fell limp against the bed once again.

I couldn't give up. I refused to give up, and I kept at it with the defibrillator, periodically raising the setting of the charge.

"C'mon," I whispered, charging the paddles again. "You have a son, you have an ex-wife. You have so many people here; you better not leave you stubborn bastard!"

I brought the paddles down again.

"Dr. Dorian..." one of the interns began hesitantly.

"No!" I shouted refusing to hear anything she had to say.

I charged the paddles once more, but before I could connect them with Dr. Cox's chest, a hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around.

It was Carla, and she stared at me with tears in her eyes, "Bambi..."

"No, Carla," I protested. "I can still bring him back."

"He's asystolic," she said mournfully, revealing to me the cold truth of the situation. "He's _been_ asystolic for the past fifteen minutes."

No, no... I hadn't realized how much time had passed. Even if I did somehow, by some miracle, bring him back, the brain damage would be too extensive. He'd never be the same again. It wouldn't be fair of me to force him into a life like that. My gaze traveled over to my mentor's limp form. He had burns on his chest, he was as pale as a ghost, and he had a blue tint to his skin. I set the paddles back on the cart and rested one hand on the cooling flesh of his arm.

"Joey."

I looked over to see Dan standing in the doorway of the room. Nobody else seemed to see or hear him.

He smiled sadly at me as he said in a stern, brotherly voice, "Call it."

"Time of death," I said sighing as I glanced at the clock on the wall, "Two forty-two PM."

As the words left my mouth, Dan disappeared, and in his place stood Dr. Cox.

* * *

;.; 

_Review Please._


	14. Chapter 14

_Greetings readers of fic! Thanks for all your WONDERFUL reviews:D You guys rock._

_And just to clear you some confusion, when a reaper finishes their quota, they're 'promoted' to a higher position, and the last soul they reaped will take their place as reaper. So yes, Dr. Cox will be replacing Dan as reaper, and as for Dan, he's gone bye-bye now. _

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

'_It's done..._" I thought monotonously as my hand slipped from my mentor's arm and fell limply to my side.

Dan's gone. I might as well consider him fully dead because no grim reaper out there knows what happens to them once they finish their quota. Who knows if I'll ever see him again!

On top of that, Dr. Cox has been condemned to life as a reaper for who knows how long.

It just wasn't fair.

They turned off all the machines, and everyone began filing out of the room; nobody said a word. Soon only Carla and I remained, and as I stood there and stared at his still form, I felt an uncontrollable rage surge through me. I was mad at whatever higher powers there were that made these decisions, I was mad at Dan for not telling me sooner, and I was mad at myself for not saving him.

"JD?"

I screamed and pushed the crash cart over. I flipped over a tray of tools before grabbing one of the monitors and throwing it across the room. Carla took a step back but remained silent, and when I looked over at her face, I saw nothing but understanding. She got it. This was as hard for her as it was for me, maybe even more so. After all, she knew Dr. Cox longer than I did.

I looked away and ran a hand through my hair. _Dr. Cox as a reaper._ How ridiculous is that? The man spent years of his life becoming a doctor so that he could save people and keep them alive as long as he possibly could. In a matter of minutes he's just made a complete career flip. He wasn't going to take the news well. I'd have to be strong and help him through all of this, which means that I couldn't let this get to me so much.

Be strong...

I looked over to the doorway.

"Shit," I hissed.

Where'd he go?

Goddamnit. I can't believe I let him get out of my sight.

I rushed out of the room, leaving Carla behind, and looked both ways down the hallway. He was nowhere in sight.

_Shit!_ Where could he have gone to?!

Picking a random direction, I raced off down the hall, only to collide right into the Janitor.

"You're not very good at your job, you know," he commented lightly.

"What?" I snapped in disbelief, taking a step closer to him and looking him right in the eyes. "Are you insulting me on my failure to bring back Dr. Cox? Really? Are you _really_ now?"

I was about an inch from his face.

"That's low, even for you," I hissed.

"No, you moron," he said, rolling his eyes at me before pushing me back a step. "Down kitty."

I glared at him, but he was unfazed.

"No, I was referring to your complete lack of responsibility when it comes to the dead. I just saw the newest edition to your team go running that way," the Janitor said, jerking his thumb behind him, then muttered to me, "and don't think I didn't see what you did to that Castello guy."

My jaw dropped and I sputtered, "_You're_ a reaper?"

"Yes," he said, offended. "What are you saying? You don't think a janitor could be a grim reaper. Is that it? Am I just too lowly and stupid to be able to handle the responsibility? Huh?"

"No, no!" I said, holding up my hands defensively. "I'm just surprised I didn't sense it in you, that's all. Usually my reaper radar is pretty accurate."

Then again, I didn't sense the Todd right away either. I must be getting rusty.

"Oh, so _now_ you're saying I'm so weak a reaper that not even simple reaper radar can pick me up," he said. "I'll have you know that I am _head reaper_ of my team!"

"What division?" I asked curiously.

"Cancer," he said simply.

I wonder if everyone in maintenance is a reaper. Maybe it's his team.

"I'm plague," I said conversationally.

"I know," he said, then bent down and whispered in my ear, "I know all about you, _Joseph._"

Woah, my creepy meter just went up a color.

I took a step back and, getting back to the matter at hand, I asked him, "Could you _please_ do me a _huge_ favor?"

"Depends. What's in it for me?"

"I don't know, what do you want?" I asked.

He seemed to think about it for a moment before snapping his fingers and saying, "I want a pet tiger."

"No."

"A car with rocket launchers on the roof."

"No."

"I get to shoot you in the head."

I sighed, but relented, "Fine."

"Really? Cool!" he smiled like an excited child before his face turned serious and he hissed, "You won't know when and you won't know where it'll happen. When you least expect it, I'll catch you by surprise!"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving off the threat. "Now for my part of the deal. I need to go tell Jordan the news."

He was my patient, so I should be the one to tell her what happened.

"I need you to find Dr. Cox and bring him down to my locker," I explained. "Make sure he stays there until I get down there."

"Alright, what locker number is it?" he asked.

"It's number-"

"I'm just kidding you," he chuckled. "I already know which locker it is."

So he _did_ break into my locker!

"Right, I'll see you there."

Now to go tell Jordan the bad news. I hope she doesn't _really_ try to kill me.

* * *

**Perry's POV**

Strange dreams are usually Newbie's forte, not mine. The kid must be rubbing off on me though because the dream I was currently having measured pretty high up on the weirdness scale.

Apparently, in the dream, I had died and was now stuck as a ghost. I knew I was a ghost in the dream because not only was I looking at my own body, but when the doctors and nurses left the room, they passed right through me. That was the weirdest sensation I've ever felt in my entire life, and this has got to be the most vivid dream I've ever had too.

In real life, when I actually do die, I know there's no way I'd be wandering around as a ghost. Seriously, what's the point in that? You can't do much of anything.

However, despite this being a dream, looking at my dead body was a little unnerving, so I decided to leave. I might as well take advantage of this lucid dream while I was still asleep.

I went to Kelso's office first and, big surprise there, he was watching TV instead of actually doing work. He couldn't see me, so I decided to use my ghostly powers to my advantage and reached over to push his TV off its stand. However, instead of pushing the TV over, my hand simply passed straight through it. Annoyed by my failure to touch the TV, I walked over to his desk and tried to mess around with the all the papers on it, but my hand passed straight through those as well.

Damn, I must be one of those lame ghosts who can look, but can't touch. What a waste of a perfectly good lucid dream. Let's see then, what is there to do in this hospital that only involves looking?

Wait, the women's locker room. That's perfect, and who am I to turn down a good show?

I left Kelso's office and headed down to the locker rooms. Since I couldn't push the elevator buttons, I had to take the stairs. Before I could reach the locker rooms though, the Janitor stepped directly in front of me and blocked my way. I tried to walk straight through him like I did with everyone else, but he placed a hand on my shoulder and stopped me in my path.

I was a little surprised that he could actually touch me when nobody else could, but when have dreams ever made sense?

"Move it, Lurch," I snapped.

"Can't do that," he said as he swung an arm over my shoulders and lead me in the direction of the lockers. "I've got a pretty sweet deal going right now and I'm not going to let you mess it up for me."

We completely bypassed the women's locker room and walked into the men's locker room instead. The Janitor walked me past several different lockers before stopping in front of number forty-seven.

"What the hell is going on," I asked when I saw that he wasn't moving from the locker.

"I'm sure you have many questions, but it's not my job to answer them, so you're just going to have to wait until Scooter gets here and explains things," The Janitor said as he leaned up against the locker.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, so you just have fun with that, I'm going to go now," I said as I turned to leave, but before I could go anywhere, the Janitor grabbed my arm and turned me back around to face him.

"You're not going anywhere," he said with a firm grip on my arm. "It's my job to keep you here until he gets here. If you leave now, I'll never get the chance to shoot him in the head!" he paused for a moment then said, "Well, I could still shoot him, but it wouldn't be the same if I didn't earn the right to."

"And the dream just keeps getting weirder," I muttered to myself.

"Wait, dream?" he asked, giving me an odd look. "This isn't a dream, this is real."

"Sure, Lurch, and pretty soon pigs will be flying all over the place and you'll tell me that's normal too," I said, rolling my eyes at him.

Sighing, he let go of my arm and held a hand to his forehead as if he suddenly had a headache.

"This is going to be difficult," he mumbled before his hand dropped to his side. "Look, I know you're stubborn and always think you're right-"

"Because I am."

He ignored the interruption, "Try and keep an open mind."

I could hear the door to the locker room opening and foot steps heading right to us. I looked over in the direction the foot steps were coming from in time to see Newbie turning the corner. He wasn't looking too great. He had a black eye and claw marks going down his cheek and around his neck.

"Pricilla's the one we're waiting for?" I asked, throwing a curious glance in the Janitor's direction.

He nodded and my attention was drawn back to Newbie when he said, "She took that better than I expected."

Just as I was about to ask Newbie what was going on, the words died in my throat at the sight of his black eye fading away and the claw marks sealing themselves up. He wiped away the excess blood as if it were nothing new and there wasn't a mark left where the wounds once were.

'_This dream is weird, even by Newbie's standards,_' I thought as I stared at the kid with wide eyes.

"He's all yours," the Janitor said as he walked toward the locker room door, but before he left, he paused next to Newbie and said, "FYI, he thinks he's dreaming."

Newbie nodded in understanding and waited until the Janitor was gone before turning his attention to me. He took a deep breath, as if preparing himself, then let it out slowly. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his scrubs as he walked over to me.

"So..." he dragged out. "You think this is a dream."

He struggled to meet my eyes when he said this.

"It's pretty obvious, don't you think?" I asked.

"That it's a dream?" he inquired.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Come on, Newbie, the ghost thing, my death, and your magical healing ability. What else could it be?"

"A strange afterlife that you never could have imagined," he supplied weakly.

"Yeah right," I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"But it's true," he said, and he sounded so completely serious when he said that, for a moment I almost...

"Bullshit," I said, glaring at him.

"Would it help if I showed you your body?" he asked.

"I've already seen it," I snapped. "I don't need to see it again."

"Dr. Cox... _Perry_, you died. The plague doesn't have a cure, remember?" he said. "I tried other methods, but..."

"If that's true, Gloria, then how is it possible that both you and the Janitor can still see me and talk to me?" I asked.

Let's see him explain that one.

"Yeah, about that, that's a _really_ long story," Newbie said, stalling.

He walked over to the locker we stood in front of, I guess it was his locker, and put the combination in. I glanced inside when he opened it up and saw a cake sitting in there. I thought back to when the kid's dad died and how Dan and I had sat down with him to watch sports and talk about their dad. That was when they explained the whole cake thing to me.

"Who died?" I asked quietly, and a bit stupidly too considering what he just told me.

He tensed up, and without looking at me, said stiffly, "You."

Newbie reached behind the cake and pulled out an envelope. He stared at it for a moment with a surprised look on his face, and I suspected that he didn't expect it to be in there. Coming out of his stupor, he tore open the envelope and pulled out a post-it with a short message on it and two of those hotel key-cards. He folded up the post-it and stuck it in his pocket along with the key-cards.

"Come on, I know where we can go," he said as he pulled the cake out of his locker and closed it up. "I'll explain things along the way."

I still think this is all just some elaborate dream I came up with while delirious with the plague, and because it's a dream, there's really no reason why I should follow Newbie to wherever it is he wants to take me. It would make more sense to just stay at the hospital and wait out the rest of the dream.

And yet, there's a stupid, gullible part of me that's beginning to think that maybe this isn't really a dream at all, and If I'm ever going to find out what's going on, I should follow Newbie. Dream or not, he plays an important role in whatever it is that's happening.

So I followed him right out the hospital doors. He dumped the cake in the first trash bin he came across and then called up a taxi.

"Your shift isn't over," I found myself saying, and I wondered how I even knew that. Maybe I had subconsciously heard it mentioned while I was asleep.

"You just died, I think they'll understand," was his excuse.

The taxi pulled up and Newbie opened the door for me.

"I can get my own door, Fiona," I growled, but climbed in anyway.

"For the next couple days, you won't be able to touch much of anything," Newbie said to me, then turned to the taxi driver and said, "Holiday Inn on Maple Street."

The driver nodded and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

"So about that long story," I said. "How about you give me the cliff notes."

"Right," he sighed as he gazed out the window, avoiding my eyes. "I'm not what you think I am."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean by 'what'?"

"I'm what the living like to call a 'grim reaper.' The Janitor's one too, that's why we could both see you," he explained.

Yup, definitely a dream.

I glanced at the taxi driver for some sort of reaction to Newbie's big revelation, but the man didn't even bat an eye.

"If that guy can't see me, then why doesn't he seem to be affected by the fact that you're talking to air?" I asked.

"It's one of the perks of being a reaper," Newbie said, flashing me a quick smile before looking back out the window. "When it comes to interacting with the living, I have a choice, and right now I choose not to. All that man sees is me sitting back here quietly."

"Is that why I sometimes couldn't find you at work?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. Looking back on it, there were a few times when Newbie seemed to vanish off the face of the earth.

Newbie gave me a guilty smile, but this time didn't turn away from me as he admitted, "There were a couple times. The job comes with other perks too. For one, I can't die because technically I'm already dead. Also, due to reaper metabolism, I can heal pretty quickly, but you already saw that one in effect."

I nodded, remembering how instantaneously the bruise and scratches had healed. The rest of the ride went on in silence, and it wasn't long before the taxi pulled in to the Holiday Inn parking lot. Newbie opened the door for me again, but this time I didn't protest his help. He paid the driver before we both went inside. Instead of stopping at the front desk, Newbie led me straight to the elevator.

It seemed a little weird to be following him everywhere like this when back at Sacred Heart, he was always the one to follow me.

We stopped at the third floor and I followed him to room 321. As I watched him pull one of the key-cards out of his pocket, I thought back to the post-it and figured there must have been some information on there about what hotel to go to and what room. Newbie slipped the card into the slot before opening the door, and when he did, a puppy came barreling out into the hall.

The little fluff ball raced circles around us, completely overjoyed that someone had come to see him.. or her, and then raced back into the room, expecting us to follow. As we walked into the room, I glanced over at Newbie and saw that he didn't look even slightly fazed.

"You got a puppy?" I asked, slightly surprised.

He nodded while closing the door behind him, "Dan got him. Would it be okay if he stayed here for awhile until I find him a new home?"

"Yeah, it's fine," I said, bewildered.

Why was he even asking me? This wasn't my room, I didn't pay for it. If Dan got the puppy and the puppy was here, then it was most likely Dan's room. So why was he asking me as if _I_ was staying here? I have a home, I don't need a hotel room.

Speaking of Dan...

"Is Dan a reaper? What about the rest of your family? Is it something you're born into?" I asked.

Pricilla sat down on the bed heavily and the fluff-ball hopped right up there with him and lay down in his lap. He absentmindedly stroked the puppy's head as he said, "Yes, Dan was a reaper."

_Was._ The past tense stuck out like a sore thumb in Newbie's sentence.

He continued, "Yes, everyone in my family is a grim reaper, but... technically we're not related. We just consider ourselves a family because of how closely we all work together on the job."

"Not even you and Dan?" I asked, they both acted so much like brothers; they had the sibling rivalry thing down.

"No, he's just a guy on my team I met a number of years back," Newbie said shrugging.

There was no way any of this was real. I mean, come on! A family of reapers? What do they do on family outings? Go to war zones and take of souls of the dead and dying? Sure, Newbie was a little weird at times, but this is just ridiculous.

I cracked a smile, "So you're a grim reaper, and I'm dead?" he nodded. "Shouldn't I be going somewhere now?"

"Why, do you have somewhere you need to be?" he asked curiously.

"You know what I mean, Ginger, or didn't they teach you this in Reaper School?" I chuckled. "Bright lights at the end of a tunnel, angels flying around in the sky, a place where all your dreams will come true and maybe someday you'll become a real boy! Or maybe you'll be sending me to hell, is that it? Did I annoy you one too many times while I was alive? That's a little harsh, don't ya think, Newbie?"

"You don't believe me," Newbie stated, exasperated.

"Of course I don't believe you!" I snapped. "What gave it away? Was it the bright lights thing or the fact that I acted as if heaven and hell even existed?"

"Well, as long as you're in your happy little denial bubble, I might as well lay all out for you now," he said, sounding a little annoyed by this point. "Yes, you're dead, but no, you won't be moving on to the next plane of existence anytime soon. You want to know why? It's because becoming a grim reaper isn't something you're born into, it's a job that gets replaced by one person after the next. Dan finished the job and because you were his last reap, you'll be taking his place as grim reaper. That's right, you're a grim reaper now! I know, it sucks, but that's just life for you, or rather, that's _death_ for you!"

Frightened by the yelling, the puppy jumped down off of Newbie's lap and escaped into the bathroom. With his lap free, he stood up and walked over to the front door and opened it up.

Standing in the doorway with his hand on the knob, he said, "It's a lot to take in, and once you actually start believing what I'm saying, I'm sure you'll have lots of questions. When you're ready to talk, come find me." and with that said, he slammed the door shut and left me alone in the room with my thoughts.

I stared at the door for a moment before walking over to the bed and sitting down.

It wasn't real, it was a dream, and when I woke up, I'd laugh at how much it was actually affecting me. Still though, for a dream, it was extremely vivid, and for that matter, it was pretty emotional as compared to all of my previous dreams.

I swung my legs up on the bed and slid back so that I was leaning up against the pillows and the headboard of the bed. I automatically reached for the remote, and I was once again reminded of the dream when my hand passed right through it.

Wonderful, I can't even watch TV.

The puppy came out a couple minutes later and hopped up on the bed. He lay down right next to me, but in a way where he wasn't laying into my incorporeal form, and looked right up at me with two big brown eyes. It was as if he could see me, and the way he lay next to me so carefully, it was like he actually knew of my... condition. Animals usually have a sixth sense about that sort of thing, so I shouldn't be too surprised. I hadn't been expecting it though.

The little fluff-ball lay his head down and closed his eyes, and I decided to do the same. I slid down further in the bed so that I could actually lie down, and then closed my eyes.

And waited to wake up.

Just wake up.

This was quite obviously a dream, so why couldn't I wake up?

I waited longer, my eyes closed tight.

Wake up, wake up, wake up, _please_ just wake up.

Strangely enough, I think I may have drifted off, because when I finally opened my eyes and looked at the clock on the bed stand, the glowing red numbers told me it was nearly ten at night.

Was it possible to sleep in a dream? I don't think I've ever done it before.

Maybe... this wasn't a dream.

No, it had to be a dream. Something this bad couldn't be happening. I didn't die, it _was_ a dream.

I'm not a grim reaper, I'm just dreaming.

But then why couldn't I wake up?

I never needed a drink more than I did at that moment, so I got up and left the room. I didn't even need to open the door, I simply just walked right through it. I once again took the stairs down due to my inability to use the elevator. Not that it really mattered though, ever since the beginning of this dream, I haven't felt tired or winded once. It was kind of nice.

I found a small restaurant that was part of the hotel and headed straight for the bar, but when I saw who was sitting at the bar, I stopped. It was Newbie, and he was sitting there drinking what looked to be his sixth appletini. Not about to let him stop me from getting drunk off my ass, I continued to the bar and to prove that what he said didn't scare me, I sat down right next to him.

He glanced over at me before looking back down at his appletini.

"Ready to talk?" he asked.

"I was actually planning on getting drunk," I said.

He seemed to wince at that and said slowly, "Drunk... right."

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, I'll tell you later," he said evasively and took a sip of his drink.

Hearing a buzzing noise, I looked over to see Newbie's cellphone vibrating on the bar. Seeing that he made no move to pick it up, I asked, "You gonna answer that?"

He shook his head, "Just people looking for me. I don't feel like talking to them right now."

The cellphone stopped buzzing just as the bartender walked by, and as he did, I said, "Bartender, one scotch."

"He can't see or hear you," Newbie reminded me.

"Then order me something," I said, as if it were obvious.

"You can't actually eat or drink anything until you're corporeal," he explained.

"You're kidding me!" I snapped, and almost pleaded for him to say he was.

"Don't worry about it, you'll be corporeal again within the next few days," he explained. "You won't feel hungry or thirsty in the meantime."

"Fabulous," I said sarcastically as I leaned against the bar. "So... a grim reaper, huh?"

"Yeah," he said. "We take the souls out of the bodies and watch over them until they go off into the afterlife."

"Sounds like a babysitting job to me," I griped. "How do I get out of this job? Can I quit, because if so, then I quit."

"It doesn't work like that," he said before finishing off his appletini with a gulp. "When you finish your quota, which is the number of reaps you have to do while you're a reaper,_then_ you finish the reaping job."

His cellphone started buzzing again, but we both ignored it.

"How do we know who to kill," I asked.

"Okay, for one thing, we're not _killing_ anyone. Those people will die with or without our help. It's _very important_ that we're there to release their soul. Got it?" he hissed.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Francine, I got it," I mumbled.

"Good," he smiled a fake smile. "As for who we reap, let me worry about that. I'll get the assignments and give yours to you. On a side note, we'll only be dealing with plague victims. What a reaper dies of is what they end up taking care of. There are different divisions based on causes of death, ours being the plague division for example, and for each division, there's a number of different groups stationed all over the planet that take care of the area they're stationed in."

"That's all so... very interesting," I said dully while leaning face-down against the bar.

I'd sell my soul if I could just wake up.

* * *

_Done with chapter 14. Hopefully I did okay with Dr. Cox's POV. I've been writing for JD so much it's weird to just switch around like that._

_New Scrubs tomorrow. Yay! I hope they don't kiss, it would screw things up WAY too much. Plus, JD has a kid. He can't be doing stuff like this! Oi! _

_Review please!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Greetings readers of fic! So sorry for the lack of updates. I kinda got caught up in both homework and other fic ideas (namely Psych). Keep an eye out for those ones later if you're a fan. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews and here's chapter 15._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_JD's POV_

It was close to three in the morning when I called a cab to drive me back to Sacred Heart so that I could grab Sasha and head home. Dr. Cox had gone back up to his room when I left to do whatever one does while they're a ghost. He's probably still ranting to himself about how this is all just one big dream. I'm not looking forward to when he finally wakes up.

I had hoped to sneak into the apartment without confronting either Carla or Turk. I really didn't want to talk to them about death and what had happened. For the next few weeks, I know I'll be far too busy helping Dr. Cox adjust to reaper life. I won't have time to grieve and I just know they'll try to get me to _express my feelings_.

Not only that, but it's a little weird grieving for someone who technically is still 'alive' and walking around. No, I'll just bottle up all my grief inside me and cut out that little piece to tumor later.

Unfortunately, Carla and Turk waited up for me on the couch. Well, Carla did, Turk had fallen asleep at some point.

"JD, where have you been? We've been worried sick!" Carla said before jabbing Turk in the side with her elbow to wake him up.

"I was just resting my eyes!" he snorted as he bolted upright and blinked the sleep from his eyes before turning to me and saying casually, "Hey, J-Dog."

"I've been around," I said vaguely. "Needed to clear my head."

Carla stared at me with concern. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was void of makeup. She probably washed it all off because it got runny from her tears. Dr. Cox's death was hitting her hard, quite possibly even harder than the death of her mother.

Turk's sadness was sympathetic and subdued. He hadn't known Dr. Cox as well as Carla and I did, so his grief wasn't as intense as ours. He seemed more upset about how it was affecting us, not to say that he didn't care about Dr. Cox, it was just complicated. Even if it did affect him strongly, he wouldn't show it. He was fallen into the roll of being a strong shoulder for us to lean on.

"We tried to contact Dan, see if he knew where you were," Turk said. "He wasn't picking up his cellphone though and he took the puppy with him."

I might as well tell them now; they're going to hear about it sooner or later.

"Dan's dead," I said in a monotonous tone that surprised even me.

"What?" Carla gasped. "How?"

"Car accident," I said, my voice becoming strained.

I have to be strong. I can't let this devastate me.

"It was pretty bad," I continued.

An explosion. A fiery car explosion with nothing left of his body... Or at least that's the cover story.

"His body's being sent back home to mom," I said.

Another lie. There won't even be a funeral. He's already had one around three hundred years ago, it would be pointless to hold a second one. Besides, funerals are more for the living loved-ones the dead leave behind, and I'm not exactly alive.

"I have someone watching the dog right now," I said.

That was true, except it was Dr. Cox who was dead but still here. This couldn't be more screwed up.

"JD, are you okay?" Carla asked sadly, but carefully, as if I would explode right then and there. She had tears in her eyes again. I couldn't tell if they were sympathetic or genuine. Maybe it was just the shock of another death of someone she knew so soon after Dr. Cox.

Now they were both staring at me now with concern and sympathy. I wish they would stop. I don't need sympathy or concern anyway. I'm fine. This isn't affecting me because nobody's really dead, they're just living different existences. Yes, I'm perfectly fine.

"I'm going to bed," I said, not looking at them as I retreated to my room and closed the door.

My bed smelled like Dan, but that was fine. I was okay with that. It didn't bother me at all.

I slept on the floor that night.

* * *

_Perry's POV_

For the rest of that night and the following day, I stayed in the hotel room. My only company was a hyperactive puppy whose name I didn't know. I think for now I'll call him Pain-In-My-Ass. The name really seems to suit him. Unlike what I thought last night, I really don't think he knows that I'm, for lack of a better word, a ghost.

No, I can't throw your little toy goose for you, I can't even touch it, and for the love of Me (because there's clearly no God in this dreamed-up afterlife of mine. In your face Paige, I knew it!)** stop** whining at the door! I can't let you out. I can't even open the door, and even if I could, I don't think this hotel is pet friendly, though I could be wrong.

Well, that's a lovely little mess you made on the floor there, Pain-In-My-Ass. I'll let Newbie clean that up the next time he stops by. I'm starting to wonder if maybe you are aware of my condition and you're doing this just to screw with me. You seem the type, like you're Jordan's second child.

As expected, Newbie stopped by later that day and I watched with a smirk as he cleaned up the furball's different messes. He took the pup outside for a bit before returning and filling up his food and water bowl. I stayed in the room the whole time, not about to follow Newbie around the same way he did while I was working at Sacred Heart.

Once he was done with all these small tasks, I decided to break the silence I had been subjected to for the past several hours and asked the kid what he named the puppy. Really, it was for pure boredom's sake, I didn't care what he named the mutt and personally I think Pain-In-My-Ass is a fine name for a dog... or an intern.

Newbie just shrugged and gave me some story about how he wasn't keeping the dog so he wasn't naming it, but I could tell that was a load of bull.

'_Don't sound too sure about that, do you Delilah?_'

So Newbie left again, after turning on the TV of course, I made sure of that. He promised to come back again, but I just waved him off. Come, go, do whatever you want. I don't need your support. This is a _stupid_ dream anyway.

He did come back, the very same day in fact, and I couldn't help but ask, "Don't you have work today?"

"Nope," he said as he flipped through the different TV channels. He was sitting in one of the hotel chairs while I sat on the bed and the puppy trotted around between us. "Kelso's made me take some time off. Doesn't think I'm mentally stable to be around patients. 'Time to grieve' is what he called it."

"That's a load of crap," I said as I turned my attention back to the TV. "You know perfectly well that I'm right here."

"Yeah," Cindy agreed. "But I can't explain that to them."

After setting the TV to a channel I liked, he left soon after. He stopped by again the next day and continued to make frequent visits as each day dragged on. Every time he came he would take care of the furball and ask me if I needed anything. However, being a ghost had its huge disadvantages and the only thing I ever needed was for him to change the channel.

Although not many days had passed, they became repetitive. I found myself going from believing it was all just a dream to hoping it was a dream. Something like this couldn't be real. I couldn't be dead.

'Please let me still be in the hospital, sick but alive. Don't let this hotel room be my hell.'

It had been around two or three days since this dream began and it was the morning of New Years Eve the next time Newbie stopped by. He was dressed in a black suit; the very same one he wore to Ben's funeral. His attitude was completely different from all his other visits. Before he had seemed both distracted and aloof. This time though, he was nervous and unsure, he seemed to dread every coming second.

"Your funeral starts in about an hour," he said. "If you're to move on, you need to put your old life to rest."

He held open the door for me despite the fact that I could pass straight through it if I wanted to. It was foreboding and cheesy all at the same time. I don't really know why I followed him out of the hotel and into a cab waiting by the front entrance. Maybe it was morbid curiosity or maybe it was a hope that the dream would end if I saw my own funeral. Dreams like these usually had some sort of message to get across, so maybe I was supposed to go to my funeral, have some big epiphany and then wake up.

The taxi cab took us to the same cemetery Ben was buried in and stopped near the front gates. After we got out of the cab, Newbie snapped a surgical face mask over his nose and mouth. We walked from there until we reached a mass of people dressed in black surrounding an open casket with flowers laid out on top of it. I shuddered at the brief glimpse I got of myself before looking away.

I turned my attention to all the mourners and noticed that everyone was wearing the same face mask Newbie had previously put on. It was a strange sight to see, everyone dressed in black with bright white face masks covering their noses and mouths. I was surprised by how many people had come. Many were co-workers from Sacred Heart and some were patients I had treated in the past. My old mentor had come too. There were also distant relatives as well as my remaining close family: Paige, Jordan, Jack and even Danni.

Newbie patted my shoulder before leaving to take a seat next to Carla and Gandhi. Everyone was seated by this point and the cemetery was silent save for the muted crying of the people around me. Jordan was sitting in the front row with Paige on one side, Danni on the other, and Jack in her lap.

I slowly walked around the mass of people until I was standing in front of my ex-wife. Even with the face mask on, I could tell she was keeping her face was completely expressionless. Her puffy, red eyes gave her away though. I knew she would miss me and had the situation been different and not as serious, I would so rub it in her face.

I turned my attention to Jack. My little boy. I knelt down in front of him and although he couldn't see me, I forced a smile on my face.

"Hey there, Jackie," I said quietly.

I wish he could hear me. I don't know what I'd tell him if he could, but I wish I could tell him something that could bring even a small form of comfort to him. He didn't even look sad. He probably doesn't even know what's going on, he's still so young. Granted, I've told him so many different things that someone his age probably shouldn't know about, but I don't know if death was one of those things.

"Daddy loves you," I finally said. "Daddy's here."

A priest stepped before my coffin and started his little spiel. I _couldn't believe_ they got a priest to speak at my funeral. They know how I feel all that religious crap. I bet this is Jordan and Paige's doing. They probably went in on it together. Jordan gets to flip me off one last time and Paige finally gets me involved in her crazy religious beliefs.

I stood up, leaned close to Paige and murmured, "I got news for you, sister dear, your god doesn't exist."

The priest finished his boring speech and then a few other people gave their own little speeches. Everyone laughed and cried over all the stories told about _me_, some of which were embarrassing. I gotta say, there is no respect for the dead. I could have gone without people knowing about my first freak-out and screw-up as an intern.

Then it was Newbie's turn to talk. He didn't look like he was going to at first, but Carla pushed him to it. So he stood up and began with, "Dr. Cox was a mentor to me, though he would never admit it..."

He went on to talk about how I helped him become the doctor he is today, how I showed him the ropes, and how I had a gruff exterior, but underneath it all, I was a good man who cared about his patients even after all the years I'd worked at the hospital. Clarabelle's eyes watered a bit and as I listened to his speech and watched his fake sadness, I felt a rage build up inside of me.

He had _no_ right!

Here he was, talking about me in the past-tense, saying how he'd miss me, when he in fact knew I was right here. He could see me and talk to me whenever he wanted and yet here he stood, pretending that he was grieving my loss. It was like he was mocking my funeral and everyone around him.

"That's a lot of bullshit coming from someone who saw me less than an hour ago!" I shouted and Newbie stopped talking. He sat down and everyone took it as a sign that he was too distraught to go on. Well, almost everyone. I couldn't help but notice that the Janitor as well as a couple other people from the hospital glanced over at me.

Everyone stood up and lined up by my coffin with Jordan and Jack first in line, Paige was right behind her. I walked over to my coffin and stood next to it. My gaze was drawn like a magnet to my body and I grimaced at the sight. They had used makeup to make me appear more alive, but all it did was make me look fake. I can't believe my body was going to be wearing all that girly crap for the rest of eternity.

Jordan murmured something to my corpse I couldn't hear before placing a flower on top the coffin. She then lifted Jack up and he threw his flower into the coffin. It landed on my body's folded hands.

Turning around to Paige, Jack whispered, "Daddy's sleeping. Shhh!"

It brought tears to my sister's eyes and Jordan led him away. One by one, people walked up to my coffin and paid their respects. Some of them said something to me, others were silent as they lay down a flower; as if my funeral wasn't girly enough...

I never did like flowers, and as they piled up on my coffin, I felt angry again. Not at the people, not even really at Newbie, just angry. I wanted to push the stupid plants off my coffin, but I knew I couldn't.

They were wasting their time, piling the flowers onto my coffin, murmuring choked words to my corpse as if it would come back to life and say, "No, really, it's _okay_ that you never got to know me while I was alive. Hell, I wouldn't have wanted to know you alive or dead and would you take back your girly flower. I mean really, pink? For me? Come on now!"

"You're wasting your time," I muttered angrily, then shouted, "I'm not dead!" I knew some of them could see me, I saw their sympathetic glances. I didn't care though. "Do you hear me? I'm alive! None of this is real!"

I looked to the sky, as if I could see some sort of higher power, and raged, "I don't know what your big message is, but I'm tired of your games!"

The last person laid his flower down and walked away.

"Damnit, let me wake up!" I screamed, but nothing happened.

Nothing changed. I was still here in the cemetery, standing next to a coffin that held my corpse. The coffin was closed and everyone stood around me in a circle. The priest began his closing speech as my body was slowly lowered down into the ground. I wasn't sure if they were going to bury me now or later, but I wasn't about to stand around and watch, so I left.

Newbie broke away from the crowd after muttering a quick excuse to Carla and his other half. He followed me across the cemetery, not saying a word, and stopped when I stopped at the front gate.

He stared at me silently, waiting for me to talk. I finally asked in a defeated tone, "This is real, isn't it Newbie?"

He nodded sadly and said quietly, "Yes."

As much as I hated to admit it, and as much as I didn't want it to be true, seeing my own funeral revealed to me the painful truth of my new reality. This wasn't a dream. It was a living nightmare and it was really happening. I was dead, or rather, I was undead.

"Do you want to go to the wake?" Newbie asked as he hesitantly grabbed the sleeve of my hospital clothes. Hopefully I wouldn't be wearing those forever.

I shook my head. I had seen enough for the day. I didn't want to have to stand around as a ghost and listen to people talk about my life, as if I wasn't there, and give their condolences to my family.

Newbie pulled out his phone and dialed for another taxi. We waited in silence for it to come. It soon pulled around to the front gate and Newbie opened the door for me. I climbed in without a biting remark; all of the fight in me had faded. I slumped against one of the doors just as the taxi driver asked where he was driving. Newbie didn't answer at first, and my gaze drifted over to him curiously. He seemed to be thinking about something for a moment before a smile broke out on his face.

'_Uh-oh..._'

"P3 club on Springsun Avenue," he said.

The driver nodded as he pulled away from the cemetery and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the kid.

"What the hell are you planning, Margo?" I growled.

I was _not_ in the mood for his games.

"Relax," he said. "We're going to a New Years party."

"I'm not really in a partying mood, Newbie," I sighed as I looked out the window and watched the scenery passing by.

"This isn't your average party," he said, mischievous as ever. "Trust me, it'll be fun."

* * *

_End of chapter 15. Not one of my most favorite chapters, but I've already rewritten it twice, so it'll have to do. In case you're wondering: Yes, P3 is the same P3 from Charmed (insert disclaimer for Charmed here). _

_Review please!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Greetings readers of fic! My gift to you is an update. Enjoy!_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs, Dead Like Me, or in the case of this chapter, Charmed, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Perry's POV

As we pulled up in front of the club, Newbie quickly explained that the party was reaper-only and was held every New Years Eve. Souls were invited too. As I got up and fazed through the taxi door, I stared up at the glowing P3 with mild interest. It was a place I had never been to before, but I have heard the occasional good review through word-of-mouth and the newspaper.

We walked up to the front entrance and stopped in front of a bouncer holding a PDA who demanded our names and division.

Newbie threw me a nervous glance for some reason before saying, "Joseph Donovan and... Dan Neutra's replacement. Plague division."

I looked over at the kid, confused. I may call him 'Newbie' and just about any girl's name one could possibly think of, but I do actually know his name and the last time I checked, it wasn't Joseph Dono-something. I wondered for a moment if maybe we didn't have invitations and Newbie was just sneaking us in under fake names. However, before I could voice my confusion, I was distracted by the bouncer's overly-dramatic gasp.

"Dan's replacement?" he asked, sounding both shocked and saddened by the news. "Fluffy's been promoted?"

I looked over at Newbie with a raised eyebrow only to see the same expression on his face as he said, "Uhh, yeah... Dan's been promoted. Filled his quota and all."

Mr. Over-Emotional Bouncer Man smiled sadly and said, "Good for him." Clearing his throat and composing himself, he said gruffly, "You guys can go in."

As we retreated into the club, I looked over at Annika and hesitantly asked, "Fluffy? Do I want to know?"

Looking slightly disturbed, Newbie shook his head and said, "That's one name of his I didn't even know about."

"That's another thing," I said as I grabbed his wrist and stopped him. "Joseph Donovan? What the hell is that about?"

"That's my real name," Newbie explained. "From before I died. Reapers have to adopt new identities to avoid suspicion. Did you think you could still be Perry Cox once you become corporeal?"

"I never really thought about it," I said truthfully, but I saw his point. It would be too strange if another man named Perry Cox showed up at the hospital. It makes me wonder what will happen once I do become corporeal. Will I look the same? Will people I know be able to recognize me?

"Hey, don't worry about that stuff right now," Newbie said with a reassuring smile. "Just enjoy the party tonight and get to know your fellow reapers."

A shriek sounded behind us and we turned around to see a middle-aged woman pushing her way through the crowd toward us. When she finally managed to get to us, she said with a grin, "JD, honey! There's been so much going on in your division, you _have_ to tell me all the gossip!"

Newbie glanced over at me, looking unsure, so I rolled my eyes and growled, "I don't need you to hold my hand, Josephine. Go have fun."

He gave me a grateful smile before walking away with the woman. I sighed, not at all in the mood to enjoy the party, and headed over to the bar. I took a seat next to a man with dark hair and forced a courteous smile at the bartender, a woman with long brunette hair.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"Nothing right now," I said frowning. "I'm not exactly capable of drinking at the moment."

She nodded absentmindedly before walking away to serve someone else drinks.

"New to the job?" the man next to me asked.

"Yup," I sighed. "Just got back from my funeral today."

"That's always tough," the man said before turning to me on his bar stool and holding out his hand, "The name's Rube."

"Perry," I said, shaking his hand before asking, for pure boredom's sake, "So what's the story on this place?"

"P3?" he asked as he turned back around on his stool and leaned against the bar. "It's just one of the places we occasionally hold the New Year's Party. We buy it out for the night so that we're safe to just be ourselves. The bartender over there is the owner."

I glanced over at the brunette, "So she's dead too."

"No, she's alive."

I blinked and looked over at Rube, "Thought this party was reaper-only."

"Her and her family are one of the exceptions. They don't ask us about our abnormal behavior and we don't ask them about theirs," Rube said before calling the bartender over to order a drink. "You look like a scotch man."

"I told you, I can't drink anything," I said irritably. Sitting at a bar, it wasn't a fact I liked to be reminded about.

Rube accepted the drinks and said, "I'll just hold onto it for you then." he paused to take a drink of the beer in front of him. "So what division are you in."

"Plague, I guess," I said as I stared straight ahead of me at all the different colored bottles of alcohol, wishing that I could just have a drink.

"You guys have been busy lately," he commented.

"Yes, unfortunately," I grunted.

Suddenly, from behind us, I hear a familiar voice shout, "**I'll make you wish you never died, you bastard!**" Followed by a crash and soon after that, a smash.

Curious, I twisted around on my bar stool along with Rube to see Newbie and some other guy on the ground, beating the crap out of each other. Both were armed with a broken bottle. They pushed away from each other and rose to their feet. The other guy punched Newbie across the face and smashed his broken bottle against the kid's neck, leaving behind several bloody gashes. Newbie stumbled back a few paces but recovered surprisingly quickly. He smashed his own bottle against the man's bottle, knocking it from his hand, and crowed, "Where's your knife now, Steve? Huh? Where's your knife now?!"

It made no sense to me since they were armed with bottles and not knives.

Completely unfazed by the display, Rube leaned over to me while the two fought and said, "I don't mean to stereotype, but this_does_ tend to happen a lot among your general division."

The bartender, coming out of her stupor, shouted, "Hey! Not in _my_ club!"

Stepping out from behind the bar, the bartender stormed over to the two who continued to fight despite her protests, and snapped, "What did I just say? No fighting in my club!"

Then the bartender did something that completely floored me. She flicked her wrists. It wouldn't have been so impressive had it not been for the fact that two simultaneous explosions erupted from the two fighting reaper's bodies. Newbie and the other guy, Steve apparently, were blown backwards a few feet from the force of the explosion and landed on the ground in a heap.

One of the most surprising things of all was that I was the only one in the club surprised by this.

With her hands on her hips, she asked, "Do I need to kick you two out or are you going to behave?"

"Sorry Piper," they both said as they got to their feet; their wounds already healing.

Crossing her arms in satisfaction, Piper returned to the bar to continue serving drinks.

"Abnormal behavior, huh?" I said to Rube as I turned back around to face the bar.

I guess I should be getting used to strange things like this.

My attention was drawn to the television hung over in the corner of the bar. The channel was set to Time Square and the countdown had just begun. Everyone in the club chanted along with the TV, "Ten, nine..."

"Hey Perry, how long have you been dead?" Rube asked.

"It's been about three days, I think," I muttered. "Why?"

"Five, four..."

"Just thought you'd need this," he said lightly as he slid the glass of scotch over to me.

My hand reached out instinctually to grab the sliding scotch.

"One!"

My fingers wrapped around the glass and a genuine grin spread across my face.

"Happy New Year!"

"Can't celebrate the New Year without booze," Rube said, raising his glass in salute. "Here's to the year 2008."

I raised my own glass and said, "May it suck less than 2007." Lowering my glass, I took a nice long swig of scotch. It was the first drink I've had since my death and it was absolutely heavenly. "Oh yeah, that hits the spot."

Then, of course, Newbie had to come up behind me with an appletini in hand and completely destroy the 'no touching' rule by swinging an arm over my shoulders and saying, "Hey, you're corporeal! Great, tomorrow we'll go get your new ID and all your papers."

"If you wanna keep your arm, Claudia, you better remove it in the next three seconds or I will," I growled and he wisely obeyed.

Still as happy as ever, despite my previous threat, Newbie looked over at Rube and said, "Hey Rube."

Rube nodded in greeting, "Joseph."

Looking back over at me, Newbie blinked as if remembering something and said, "Oh! I'll be right back, I'm gonna go borrow a camera."

As he scurried away, I turned my attention back to my drink while stating absentmindedly, "So, you know Newbie."

Rube smiled at the nickname and said, "Joseph is a very social person, a lot of us know him."

I nodded as I took another drink of scotch. The whole situation felt strange. When I was alive, the hospital had been my domain. I knew everyone and had different connections and influences on people. When Newbie came in as a scared little intern, he was in my territory, my world. Now I was in his world; the new inexperienced reaper who hadn't a clue what the hell he was doing. With the exception of Rube who I barely knew a thing about, I didn't know any of these people. I was out of my element and I hated it.

Bounding back over like a buzzed puppy, Newbie held up the digital camera triumphantly and said, "Okay, turn around and smile!"

I looked over my shoulder at him with a frown as the flash went off.

After pressing a few buttons, Newbie looked at the picture on the small camera screen and said offhandedly, "Well, good enough." Holding the camera out to me so that I could see the screen, he said, "See? That's you."

For curiosity's sake, I looked down at the picture of some random guy on the screen before shaking my head and saying, "No, that's not me. You fail at taking pictures, Newbie."

Pointing to the picture on the screen, he patiently explained, "That is you, or at least that's how the living see you."

Guess that explains my question about people recognizing me. The answer seems a little obvious now. Of course I wouldn't look the same. If someone who knew me saw me, it would cause wide-spread panic. I took the camera from Newbie's hands and looked at the picture of the scowling man more closely.

He, or rather, _I_ looked younger. Possibly around thirty, maybe thirty-five. My hair was straight instead of curly, and while it was still the same length, it was now a dark blonde. My face was completely different, a bit younger, not at all like me. Squinting at the picture, I saw that my eyes were the only thing that remained the same about me.

Wondering if I had changed completely or if it was just an illusion, I looked up at the mirror wall that held the different liquor bottles. I mentally sighed in relief when I saw Perry Cox staring back at me.

"So it's an illusion?" I asked uncertainly.

"To the living, yes," Rube said.

"Spirits and other reapers see you for how you really are," Newbie explained.

Okay, that made a little sense, except for one thing.

"Why didn't your appearance change once I died?" I asked Newbie. "For that matter, why didn't the Janitor's?"

"I don't know about the Janitor, but I can explain me," Newbie said. "I look the same for both the living and the dead because anyone who could have recognized me as Joseph Donovan has died. It takes a while, but eventually the illusion reverts back to your old self. Maybe it's the same way for the Janitor." He shrugged, apparently not caring too much either way. "Anyway, enjoy the rest of the night. Get drunk, and _savor_ that drunk feeling."

Taking the camera from my hands, Newbie said something about returning it to someone named Devon before skipping away. Yes, _skipping._ I'm not really sure if that's the appletini kicking in or if it's just Newbie being himself.

"Why did he say it like that?" I muttered suspiciously, glancing over at Rube. "Why did he tell me to savor the feeling?"

"Probably because reaper-metabolism makes it nearly impossible for us to get drunk," Rube said with a shrug. "These parties are the only time they make drinks strong enough to work on us."

"You're kidding," I said, aghast. Let him be kidding. How the hell else am I supposed to escape this crappy reality? Sleep? Yeah, _right._

"Afraid not."

I can only be drunk one day out of the whole year? Maybe two if they have another party. Holy crap, I need a scotch!

"Piper!," I called out. "Another scotch! In fact, give me the whole bottle. Bring over a couple beers too. Just put it all on _Mr. Donovan's_ tab."

She threw me an amused smile as she got my order together. Setting everything down in front of me, she asked, "Anything else?"

"How about the recipe for this extra-strong scotch you make?" I asked with a hopeful grin.

"Sorry, buddy, family secret," Piper said before turning to serve another customer.

'_Oh well,_' I thought as I looked at all the bottles sitting before me. '_This should do for now._'

* * *

"I'm in hell," I groaned.

Things had been looking up this morning. I woke up without a hangover, probably due to that reaper-metabolism Newbie keeps mentioning, and the puppy had been quiet and well-behaved ever since I'd gotten back to the hotel room.

Then Josie came and brought me to get my new ID.

"It's the DMV. What did you expect?" Newbie said, standing next to me in the never ending, slowly moving line.

Unfortunately, reapers didn't get special treatment at the DMV and had to wait in line just like everyone else.

"We've been standing in line for a little over an hour now, Newbie. I've _just_ barely gained back the ability to eat and I'm starving because _someone_ didn't think we had enough time to grab a quick breakfast. You were in such a hurry to get us out the door and over here, yet when it comes to you getting to work on time, you stop and take all the time you need to get your hair and makeup done because someday you hope your prince will show up at that hospital and sweep you off your feet and of course you have to look nice when he does," I ranted.

"You know how much time that rant ate up? We're next," Newbie said as he dragged me to the window.

My rants just don't have the same effect as they used to. I need to find a new way to instill fear into his dead, reaper soul.

"John or Chris?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

The middle-aged DMV lady rolled her eyes before asking again, "Do you want your new name to be John Mcginley or Chris Warrender?"

"I can't make up my own name?" I asked a bit incredulously.

"_John or Chris?_"

I didn't like the 'John' name. Newbie was using John, and that would become confusing after a while. I wasn't too impressed with the 'Chris' one either. It was like the better of two evils. Truthfully, it doesn't matter what name they came up with, I still probably wouldn't like it because of the mere fact that a new name was just one more nail in the proverbial coffin of Perry Cox.

"Chris," I sighed.

The DMV lady typed something into her computer before pointing me over to a stool set off to the side where you get your picture taken. I sat down on it a she took an unflattering picture of me before disappearing into a back room.

"What a nice lady," Newbie said sarcastically while we waited for her to come back. "Harold is usually the one who handles these sort of things. He's a lot more tolerable."

The grouchy DMV bitch returned about five minutes later and passed a folder full of papers through the window slot.

"That's your basic package. Driver's license, birth certificate, medical records, social security number and card, and just about every other form of paper work you need to get by," she explained.

"What about my medical degree?" I asked. "I'm a doctor."

The woman frowned, "Something like that will take a bit more time to get. Once I confirm your history as a doctor, I'll fill out the forms to get your degree. However, without a hospital to vouch for your previous years of experience, you may have to start out at an entry-level job."

...I'd have to start out as a damn intern again?! I _am_ in hell!

"How long would it take to get him a degree?" Newbie asked while I silently fumed in a corner, plotting my revenge on the world.

"A couple weeks," she said. "Possibly over a month."

"Okay, well, you can call this number to confirm his status as a doctor," Newbie said, scribbling some information down on a piece of paper. "This is his name, and you can contact us on an update at this number here."

She nodded and took the paper then said with zero enthusiasm, "Have a nice day."

My mind had gone into shock over the whole thing. I couldn't believe it. All those years of work, gone. Down the drain. Useless. I just didn't know if I could even stand going through being an intern again. Then an attending.. A resident. They were steps someone shouldn't have to repeat. I was in such a stupor, I didn't even care when Newbie led me out the door by my sleeve like a brain dead animal.

* * *

My mood was a little better by the time we reached our destination on Newbie's scooter. He had stopped calling cabs now that I was corporeal. The kid really needed to get a car, and if he doesn't, I will because I refuse to ride the bitch seat of that thing for much longer.

Climbing off the scooter as soon as he parked, I frowned at the building before us. Sacred Heart Hospital. I always knew I'd come back here and check up on everyone, but now that I was here, I wasn't so sure I wanted to go in. we walked up to the front entrance and I hesitated at the doors.

"You okay?" Newbie asked, seeing me pause.

"Just fine, Newbie," I said, false confidence in my voice.

I was about to walk through the doors when Newbie grabbed my sleeve, looking a bit hesitant himself, and said, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You need to stop calling my 'Newbie' and girls' names. Especially here or around people we know. That was something Dr. Cox did, and it'd raise a few eyebrows if Chris Warrender did it too."

"Josie, if getting me to stop was as easy as asking me, I would've stopped a long time ago," I said rolling my eyes as I pulled ahead and walked through the automatic doors.

"I'm serious," he said, trotting after me.

"Fine, fine," I relented. "No old nicknames around them, the hospital, or any place where someone might have known Perry Cox. That good enough for you, John?"

John. Just because that would annoy him too.

"That's good," Newbie said, stepping in front of me and stopping me in my place. "Or JD. JD would work too."

"Don't push your luck, John," I said, then asked. "So what are we doing here?"

"I'm taking you on one of my reaps to show you how it's done," he said as he pulled a yellow post-it out of his pocket, and said, "This is all the information we get on them."

"You keep it on a post-it?" I asked incredulously as I looked down at the small square of paper.

_P. McLane  
Sacred Heart Hospital  
Room 324  
E.T.D. 2:15PM_

Newbie shrugged, "They're easy to carry around and there's always plenty of them."

"ETD?" I asked curiously.

"Estimated time of death," Newbie explained as we started walking again. "We better hurry, we only have five minutes."

We took the elevator up to the third floor and years of working in the hospital made the room easy to find. A quick glance at the name on the door told us it belonged to one Patrick McLane. We walked inside and I looked from the old man on the bed to Newbie, only mildly curious as to how the whole thing was done. He walked over to the old man's side and slowly ran his hand down the man's arm, his fingers leaving behind a brief glow.

He stepped away from the bed, clapped his hands once and said, "Well, that's it."

"That's _it?_" I asked.

That couldn't just be it. It shouldn't be that easy.

"Yup," he said, nodding. "Now we go wait in the hall for the old man to croak and then watch his soul until it moves on."

Supernatural babysitters.

The whole thing went against everything I knew, and yet I still followed the kid out into the hall. Leaning against the wall with Newbie near the door, we waited. It wasn't long before he flat-lined, and every instinct I had screamed at me to go in there and revive the man. It was a horrible feeling, just standing there and letting someone die when I knew I could help somehow. I looked over at Newbie, not understanding how he could be so calm and aloof over the whole thing. He was a doctor, and yet he stood there with his arms crossed, ignoring his Hippocratic oath. He was probably daydreaming.

Other doctors and nurses swarmed into the room, but it was too late. The man's soul was standing in the doorway. Newbie took the man by the sleeve of his hospital gown and led him away from the scene. I numbly followed behind.

After Newbie explained to the old man that he was dead, the two talked about the weather and possibilities of what the afterlife was like. Neither were bothered in the least by the whole situation. It was strange.

It was at this moment that I saw Jordan off in the distance, walking down a different hallway. This was my chance to see her. Maybe I could somehow explain the situation to her.

"Nice demonstration, John, but I have to go do something," was all I said before racing off in Jordan's direction.

"What's his problem," I could hear the old man ask.

"He's new..."

* * *

I finally caught up to her at the nurse's station and called out her name. She turned around and gave me a half-curious, half-annoyed look.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked irritably.

"You look great," I murmured absentmindedly. Really, she looked as if nothing had happened. Her eyes weren't even blood-shot. Of course, she was the same way after Ben died. She always was good at putting on a mask.

"I'm flattered," she said sarcastically then raised an eyebrow at me, "Do I know you?"

Of course she couldn't see me for who I really am and as I stood before her, I wondered what the hell I was doing. Had I honestly believed that I could bring up something only Perry would know and expect her to except my whole story without question? No, that was stupid. She had gone to my funeral, I couldn't go back to being Perry.

I could be Chris though, and maybe she would like him.

"You.. don't know me," I finally said. "Not yet, at least. Maybe we could go out and grab a bite to eat sometime... or something?"

It was apparently the wrong thing to say because while she may look okay, it was still too soon after my death to be going out on a date.

"Are you hitting on me?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

Carla, who had been watching the whole thing from the nurse's station, decided to intervene and walked over to us.

"Is this man bothering you, Jordan?" she asked, giving me a dirty look.

It was a look I've gotten from Carla many times before, so I wasn't too bothered by it.

"Chris! There you are!" Newbie shouted from behind me as he came racing down the hall. Seeing who I was with, he flashed me a brief 'what-the-hell-are-you-doing?' look before smiling at Carla and Jordan.

"JD, what are you doing back?" Carla asked, a bit surprised.

"And who it this?" Jordan added, glaring at me.

"I was just showing me _cousin_, Chris, around the hospital," Newbie said, saving my ass from the two angry women, one of whom was pregnant and hormonal. "He's moving down here for a while to help me out and keep an eye on me. Right, Chris?"

"Right," I agreed, defeated.

Carla suddenly smacked Newbie on the arm, "What are you doing in this hospital without a face mask?"

"Oh," Newbie said. "Right, I forgot."

Carla grabbed two masks from the nurses station and handed them over to us, "I better not catch you without one again. You too Chris. Now's not the time to be getting sick."

"Okay, Carla," Newbie said and we pulled our masks on. "Chris and I have to go now. I'll see you at home later tonight."

Waving goodbye, Newbie dragged me away and into a secluded stairwell. As soon as the door closed, he turned on me and snapped, "What the hell were you thinking? You can't see these people!"

"Wasn't aware that was a rule, _John_" I hissed.

"I would think it would be obvious that when you die, you can't haunt the people you knew when you were alive," Newbie growled in frustration.

"I wasn't haunting them, I was just having a friendly conversation," I protested.

"You were asking your widowed ex-wife out on a date!".

"If you didn't want me talking to any of them, then why did you bring me back here of all places?" I asked. What did he expect me to do? Ignore them?

"I needed to show you a reap, which, by the way, you missed the most important part of when you ran off. The reason _why_ we reap," Newbie said, then added, "Plus, some of your future reaps will take place here, so you can't avoid the hospital completely."

"I can't avoid the people I knew either," I said.

"_Knew_, as in past-tense. You have to move on from them. We _all_ have to move on from the people we knew when we were alive," He explained.

"Why should I?" I asked angrily. "Huh? Who's gonna stop me? You? You can't stop me from seeing my family."

"There are consequences," he sighed sadly.

"I don't care!" I yelled, pushing him into the wall; feeling so angry that I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze. Not that it mattered, he couldn't die.

I couldn't die either.

I left before I did something I'd regret; storming down the stairs and out of sight.

* * *

JD's POV

I stood in front of my locker and turned the combination with a sigh. That hadn't gone well at all. Of course, when I first died, I hadn't taken the news of never seeing people I knew ever again very well either. Still, I couldn't let him see them. I'd have to somehow convince him that the consequences weren't worth a brief meeting. I won't talk to him today though, he needs to cool down.

Finished with the locker combo, I heard a strange click noise as I opened my locker door. However, before I could even comprehend what that click meant, the gun set up inside my locker went off and blew a hole in the side of my head.

I stumbled backwards with a cry of both pain and shock. Holding my hands over the wound on my head, I fell against the lockers behind me and slid to the floor.

"Sonovabitch!" I bite out with my eyes shut tight.

Goddamn Janitor! This was the last thing I needed right now!

He was right though. That completely caught me by surprise. I stayed on the ground, wincing and breathing through my teeth as I waited for the wound to heal. Feeling the last of the wound close up, I took a deep soothing breath before getting to my feet and cautiously making my way over to my locker. I wouldn't put it past the Janitor to have the gun go off twice.

It didn't though, and when I looked closer, I saw that a silencer had been put on the gun so as not to attract attention. Grabbing a scrubs top from my locker, I wiped the blood off my face and off the floor. After that, I took the gun out of my locker and hid it in the scrubs top so that I could dispose of it later.

"At least I'm not in debt anymore," I muttered as I closed the locker door and left.

* * *

_That's the end of chapter 16. Happy holidays everyone! _

_Review please!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Hello all! Here's chapter 17 for you all. Also, Shadydrmr gets a virtual cookie for catching my mistake. I had completely forgotten about the fact that Perry would still be in hospital clothes when he went to the party. However, you are aloud to wear your own clothes in the hospital and I like to think that Perry had been wearing a loose t-shirt and those ugly pants like the ones he gave to Turk for the baby shower. The situation would've been just a bit too awkward had he only been in a hospital gown. Still, I'm sure it's just another thing he'll hold against JD. _

_As for Chris Warrender, it's just a name I made up for Perry's new ID. Chris because that's what the 'C' stands for in John C. McGinley._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

JD's POV

A distant knocking woke me from my sleep and a drowsy glance at my alarm clock told me it was six in the morning. The knocking continued and I realized that it was someone knocking on the front door. With an annoyed groan, I dragged myself up off my bedroom floor (I still haven't slept in the bed since Dan left), and stumbled through the darkness of the apartment to the front door. Looking through the peep-hole, I saw Dr. Cox standing on the other side, looking rather annoyed himself, and sighed before opening the door.

"What do you want?" I whispered, wary of Carla and Turk who were still asleep and had to get up early for a shift.

"I'm borrowing your credit card." he stated, not even asking.

"What, no 'please'?" I growled irritably.

"I need more clothes than just the ones you let me borrow," he said. "They don't even fit me right."

"I'm not giving you my credit card," I hissed. "Knowing you, you'd by a car with it."

"Well, I _do_ need a car," Dr. Cox pointed out. "A cellphone would be helpful too."

A cellphone _would_ be helpful. I could contact him whenever I needed to for reaps.

"You couldn't have asked me this yesterday?" I asked, wondering why he was even up at this hour. "You couldn't have waited until later on when people are actually awake?"

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "Figured I'd get this out of the way."

"Stores won't even be open," I murmured, absentmindedly running a hand through my hair.

"Is that a 'no' on the credit card thing?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

The phone started ringing.

"Hold that thought," I said before walking over to pick up the phone before it could ring again and wake up Carla and Turk.

"Hello?"

"Joey, honey!"

"Hey Mom," I sighed. Since Dan wasn't around to relay the message, she had become the one giving me my reaps. "Hold on, let me get a pen."

As I moved around the apartment with the cordless phone, searching for a pen and some post-its, Mom asked, "So how's the new guy doing?"

"He's doing pretty well considering the situation and all," I said while picking up a pen. "Asking for money."

"Tell him to get a job," she said as if it were the simplest solution in the world.

"That won't exactly help him at the moment with food, clothing, and transportation," I explained.

It was all stuff he'd need before he could pick up his first paycheck. He'd at least need a nice pair of clothes that fit him if he were to go in for a job interview.

"Well, he could do what Dan always did," she suggested.

"He's not gonna rob a bank, Mom," I sighed, picking up a pad of post-its.

"I could wire you some money if you _really_ need it," she sighed. "I just got the inheritance from my latest husband, so I have extra cash to spare."

"You're a life saver mom," I said gratefully.

"He still has to get a job," she said sternly.

"I'll be sure to tell him," I said, then asked, "So what do you have for me today?"

I scribbled all the information down before saying goodbye and hanging up with the promise that I would keep in contact. I had three reaps to take care of today, and Dr. Cox had two. I sighed before walking back over to Dr. Cox and facing the inevitable.

"So about that credit card?" Dr. Cox asked.

"No credit card," I said, shaking my head. "Mom's wiring some money down though. I can get it to you later sometime today."

"When you say 'mom', do you really mean your mom?" he asked curiously.

"No," I said, lowering my voice so that only he could hear me. Turk and Carla may be asleep, but you could never be too careful. "She's the head of our division. She also says you have to get a job."

"I'll be sure to get right on that," he said insincerely.

"I have two jobs for you today," I said as I passed over his post-its. "I'll meet you at the hospital for the first one and I'll give you your money then."

He stared down at the two post-its for a long time, not saying a word, before looking back up at me with weary eyes and saying, "Yeah.. See you then."

He turned and left. I stared down the hall and watched him go, feeling a little worried. Your first reap was always hard.

* * *

Perry's POV

It was nine in the morning when I showed up at Sacred Heart for my nine-twenty... appointment. As I walked through the halls on my way to the room listed on the post-it, I wondered how I could possibly come to this hospital for what is likely to be everyday and _not_ see the people I once knew. As much as they have annoyed me and as much as I have avoided them in the past, I just couldn't write them out of my life... _afterlife_ so easily.

I don't care how long Newbie's been doing this, I'm not about to let him pull rank over me and stop me from seeing them. I'll just have to go behind the kid's back when I see them; should be easy enough.

After dragging my feet and delaying the inevitable as much as I possibly could, I finally reached the room of my very first reap. Newbie was already there, standing by the door, and sent me a reassuring smile. I rolled my eyes at him before looking down at the name on the post-it.

_D. Morgan_

I glanced up at the name tag by the door. Dexter Morgan. Yup, it's a match and I had about five minutes before Dexter here buys the farm.

"Good luck," Newbie said as he pushed me through the door. "I'll be waiting in the cafeteria with your money when you're done."

He made it sound like I was a paid assassin.

I closed the door behind me before walking over to the dark haired man laying still in the bed. A touch of my hand was all it would take. It was easy enough, but could I really do it? I didn't know this man, he hadn't been one of my patients. You'd think that'd make it easier. I didn't know him, so I shouldn't feel any remorse for ending his life. Newbie said it wasn't killing, but I couldn't really see a difference between killing and reaping. They stopped living either way, right?

Come on Perry, you can't wuss out now. Man up and get the job done.

Looking away, I dragged my hand over Dexter's arm. He flat-lined as soon as I did. His five minutes were up.

"This is certainly an interesting situation," a voice said thoughtfully from behind me, and I turned around to see the soul of the man I had just reaped. "Am I dead?"

I nodded and Dexter didn't look bothered in the least by the news. Clearing my throat, I said, "We should go."

"Of course," Dexter said, following me out of the room without hesitating. He was taking everything surprisingly well. I wondered if everyone became more carefree when they died. I sure as hell didn't.

I walked down the hall with Dexter beside me keeping my pace. I had no idea where I was going or what I was supposed to do next. All Newbie had said was that we were supposed to watch them until they moved on, but how long was something like that supposed to take? This job should come with an instruction booklet.

Thinking of no better place to go, I brought Dexter to the employee's lounge. There were a couple nurses sitting around watching TV, but they didn't seem to notice us.

"What are you supposed to be?" Dexter asked with mild curiosity as we both sat down on an empty couch.

"A grim reaper, I guess," I said shrugging.

"Interesting," Dexter said. "So what happens next, Grim?"

I mentally winced at the nickname, but brushed it off and answered, "I wait for you to pass on. You know, bright lights and all that crap. There might be a tunnel somewhere along the way, but I'm not exactly sure."

I was bullshitting at this point because honestly, I had no idea what happens when someone passes on. It was a detail Newbie failed to explain to me.

"Bright lights," Dexter said, amused. "Somehow I don't think that's the welcoming I'll be receiving."

"Been naughty in your living years?" I asked with a smirk.

"You could say that. Truthfully, I never thought I'd die this way. I always figured that one day I'd slip up and be found out," Dexter mused. "Then spend the rest of my life on death row. The plague was a surprising twist."

"Death row?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"Not for a monster like me," he said without a hint of remorse in his voice. "You and I are a lot alike, Grim. Misunderstood dark creatures of this world. I kill the truly evil people who are too dangerous to be left alive, and you take care of everyone else."

I stood up and stepped away from the man who lowered his mask and revealed to me the monster behind. A small, self-righteous part of me felt it was okay that Dexter Morgan died today, but the rest of me felt defensive. In no way were we alike. I just briefly touch the person who is to die; that's much less personal than whatever it is he had been doing. It also wasn't as if I were the only one. The party was proof that there are lots of other grim reapers in the world.

Besides, Newbie said it wasn't killing. He's been doing this longer than I have, so I'd think he knows what he's talking about. No, grim reapers weren't killing people. We were.. We were... What the hell were we doing?

Suddenly, a dark red glow seeped out of the tiled floor and spread across a good portion of the room at a quick pace, forming a large crimson pool. None of the nurses noticed it was there and continued to watch the television. I stepped away from the dark red light that looked suspiciously like blood, but Dexter's eyes lit up with a childish joy at the sight of it.

"My exit, I take it?" he asked without fear.

Seeing no other explanation for it, I nodded. Without another word, Dexter stepped into the glowing red pool. His body transformed into pink and white lights that sunk down into red pool on the ground. As soon as he was gone, the dark red light evaporated into a light red mist before disappearing completely.

I slumped back down onto the couch and held a hand to my head as I took a moment to compose myself.

"Movies and TV shows sure had the happy, bright light thing wrong," I muttered with a sigh before getting to my feet and heading down to the cafeteria.

* * *

"Wow, you had a real creeper for your first one," Newbie said after hearing an edited version of my first reap.

I shrugged in response. Seeing that I had nothing left to say, the kid pulled a bank envelope out of his pocket and handed it over to me. I opened it up to see a good couple thousand dollars in it.

"Make it last," Newbie said. "It's all you're getting from mom and right now you have more money than me. You should probably get a temporary job in the meantime."

I grunted as I folded up the envelope and slipped it into my pocket. I'd get a job when I felt like, not when Cindy over there tells me to.

I got up from the table and turned to leave. As I walked away, Newbie called after me, "Remember, you have one more person you have to take care of today!"

'Take care of'? That's a great way of putting it, kid.

I left the hospital with no intention of returning that day. This whole time, Newbie kept telling me that I _have_ to do this, that I basically don't have a choice in the matter. Apparently he's forgotten about a little thing called 'free will.' No, I will not be a part of this and will not keep doing this.

Let Newbie deal with the person because I quit.

* * *

_That's the end of chapter 17. The character Dexter Morgan belongs to Jeff Lindsey and also stars on Showtime's _Dexter._(another great show that you should all check out). _

_Next chapter we see the consequences of what happens to a person when their grim reaper doesn't show. _

_Review please! _


	18. Chapter 18

_Hello everyone! If you're interesting in the Psych fandom, I've started a new fic. Don't worry about this one suffering though. There may be delays in updates, but that's mostly because I started classes again .  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Perry's POV

After opening up a bank account and putting some of the money in there, I got a cellphone under my alias before heading over to some bargain stores to buy clothes and other essentials. Still, as helpful as the money was, it wasn't enough for a car, so I would be forced to suffer the horrors of public transportation for a while longer until I could find another source of income. I also knew that eventually I'd have to find a place to live once the money Dan paid for the room ran out.

I looked at my new watch for the fourth time that day, watching the minutes tick down until what was supposed to be my next reap. I definitely wasn't going, that I was sure of, but I still couldn't help the foreboding feeling I got from the whole thing; as if the world was about to implode.

'_It's probably because of all that crap Newbie was feeding me about the 'importance of the job,'_' I thought, shaking my head.

One minute left.

I need something to distract myself with. Wait, Jordan has today off if I remember correctly. I'll go see her, try to smooth over yesterday's mishap.

The minute was up and the world continued to turn. I knew it was all just a bunch of hype.

* * *

JD's POV 

Having finished my last reap, I had decided to go meet Dr. Cox at his next reap. He seemed a little freaked out after his first one, so I figured I could be there for moral support. I knew he'd never admit to needing support, but he was going through an afterlife crisis so it was important that I was around to keep him from falling off the deep end.

He'd especially need support for his next reap because it just so happened to be a young boy around Jack's age. It was never easy when it was children and I'm sure that it was even harder when you had kids of your own.

There's just one problem. For me to be there for him, he actually has to be present. He only had a few minutes until little Zach passed on and he still hadn't shown up.

Maybe he's just running a little late or maybe he's caught in traffic. Somehow I don't think that's the case though.

Repeatedly looking from Zach to my watch, I muttered, "Dammit, where is he?"

The little boy flat-lined and I watched with a frown as doctors and nurses flew into the room to try and revive him. The clock ticked past the boy's ETD and eventually the doctors called his time of death. Once they all filed out of his room to go notify both the parents and the guys down in the morgue, I slowly walked into the room, bypassing other unconscious plague patients. I stood by his bedside and pulled back the white sheet that covered him.

I had seen this happen before. The boy's soul hadn't come out of his body, and it wouldn't until Dr. Cox did his job. The soul was instead trapped inside, completely aware of everything that went on around him, but unable to do anything except lie there.

"Don't worry," I told him. "I'll fix this."

Pulling the sheet back over the boy, I headed down to the morgue so as to inform a certain reaper of the situation. The reaper in question was none other than Doug Murphy. Doug was a part of the external influence division and when I first came to Sacred Heart, it only took me about a minute to realize this fact. He wasn't exactly the most subtle reaper in the world.

Walking into the crisp room that was the morgue, I shut the door behind me to ensure privacy. At the sound of a crash followed by a curse, I looked over to see Doug struggling to drag a corpse back up on the examination table it had fallen off of. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a graveling crouched on a counter cackling.

Gravelings weren't something we in the plague division saw too much of because they preferred chaos and accidents to sicknesses. In a nutshell, gravelings are dark gremlin-like creatures that are invisible to the living and cause the accidents and incidents that kill people. I guess you could say that reapers are the clean-up crew after gravelings are done with people.

The reason why there was one here now, in a place where everyone was already dead, is because Doug was cursed. He screwed with the rules and made a monumental mistake in the past that has since then caused gravelings to haunt him wherever he goes. It's the number one reason why so many of Doug's patients have died. Working down in the morgue was probably the best move he could make.

Seeing that nobody else was in the room, I cleared my throat before saying, "Doug, we have a problem."

"Oh God, what now?" he groaned, finally managing to get the body back up on the examination table.

"You should be getting a kid down here pretty soon, Zach Copley, whose soul is still inside his body," I explained a bit sheepishly.

"_What?_" he squawked.

"Dr. Cox didn't show up for it," I said. "But don't worry, I'll find him and get him to fix this. I just need you to stall for time."

"I can only stall for so long," Doug said stressfully. "Eventually his family will want his body for his funeral."

"It shouldn't take that long," I said, sounding unsure.

Dr. Cox could be really stubborn when he wanted to be.

* * *

Perry's POV 

I stood in front of the door to our apartment, or rather, the door to _Jordan's_ apartment. Perry Cox wasn't a resident of anything anymore. I came here feeling confident and defiant against the rules Newbie set down, but once I got here, my confidence deflated and I couldn't get myself to even knock on the door. She was in there, I knew. I had heard her voice, and Jack's as well, coming from inside while I stood out here trying to gain up the courage to knock on the door.

'_First with the reap and now this?'_ I thought irritably. '_Grow a pair and knock on that door!_'

As I wondered what I would even say to her, I found myself raising my hand and knocking on the door. It only took a moment for her to answer, and I felt completely unprepared when she did.

"Are you stalking me?" Jordan asked with a dirty look. "Who gave you this address?"

"I found out from John," I lied. "Look, I just came to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I've heard that you're going through a tough time and I thought you could use some company, but I approached the situation poorly and... Yeah. Sorry about that."

"I appreciate the sentiment and all," she said insincerely, "but I don't need anyone's company. I'm doing perfectly fine on my own, okay?"

"Yes, I can see that quite well from all the vodka bottles and other questionable alcoholic drinks you have scattered about as if a hurricane stopped at the liquor store before coming here and with a child present no less. It's not that I'm saying you're messy, I'm just wondering if your maid fell off the AA bandwagon or that perhaps you fired her because 'you don't need anyone's company,' not even the company of a charming man such as myself whose only want is to take you out for coffee," I said with an annoyed huff.

She looked surprised for a moment and appeared to almost be in physical pain before her mask came back on and, narrowing her eyes, she hissed, "You should go."

"What?" I asked, bewildered.

"Get out. _Now,_" she said, pushing me back a few paces before slamming the door in my face.

"Jordan, wait!" I called through the door before hearing the lock click. "Dammit!"

I hadn't meant to go on a rant. I can't help it, it's just who I am, but it also reminded Jordan of who I was, and I highly doubted that she would want to be around someone who reminded her of her dead ex-husband.

I screwed up, and there was no going back now.

I left the apartment and headed to the nearest bar despite the fact that I couldn't get drunk. I guess in a way it was a mental comfort to just be in the atmosphere of a bar. Unfortunately, the bar I went to happened to be a popular hangout for college students and all that youthful energy was quickly getting on my nerves. I was just about to leave when suddenly at a table in the middle of the room where two college boys had been competing against each other to see who could drink the most shots, one of the boys passed out on the floor.

Seeing that he had won the competition, the second college boy yelled out, "I am victorious! Who here dares to challenge the Drinking King and his stomach of steel?"

"You playing for cash, kid?" I asked as I approached the table.

"Is there any other way to play?" he said with a cocky smile as he waved the money he had won in his previous challenge. "Think you can take me on, old man?"

Sitting down in the empty seat across from the kid, I slapped some money down on the table with a smirk. "Bring on the shots."

Who better to play a drinking game than a reaper who can't get drunk? I think I just found myself the prefect temp job until I get my medical degree back.

* * *

_Yay! Done with chapter 18! I hope there wasn't any confusion about what happened to Perry's second reap. If there's no reaper to collect the soul, then the soul stays stuck inside the dead body, completely aware of everything going on. That just so happens to be my worst fear. _

_Review please!_


	19. Chapter 19

_Hey all! Back again with chapter 19 for you! Sorry for the delay, but with a lack of new episodes, it's harder to get inspired._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

JD's POV

_January 30th, 1903 _

_It had been a little over a month since my death and I was just beginning to get used to the reaper thing. I'm not just talking about the reaping part, but my team as well. They were the quirkiest bunch of people I've ever met. _

_I had just finished my reap for the day and was going to go hang out with Dan later on. He wanted to go to the zoo for some reason. He wouldn't say why, just told me that it was a surprise. Usually on my free time, I would go see Emily, but the past two weeks the head of our team, Sam, had been especially pissed off. I didn't want to push my luck, so I cut back my meetings with her until further notice. _

_The reason why Sam was so pissed off was because of Judy. Like me, she had also died in the San Francisco outbreak and became a reaper. We were the only two new reapers of that outbreak. The problem with Judy was that she wasn't adjusting as well as I was. In fact, she wasn't adjusting at all. She hadn't gone to a single one of her reaps and all she ever did was stay locked in her small apartment and cry. _

_I was the only one she ever unlocked the door for. I guess it was because we died within days of each other and were in the same situation. Because she would let me in, every few days I would go see her at her apartment and try to convince her to do her job. I understand that it's a hard job to cope with, but I also understand what happens to the people she doesn't reap and I've seen what happens to their bodies and therefore their souls. _

_"Judy," I called, knocking on the door of her apartment. "It's JD. Let me in!" _

_There was no answer. Not even the usual muffled crying I commonly hear. I tested the door to find that it was unlocked and walked inside. _

_"Judy?" I called again. "Are you home?" _

_She must have left her apartment because she wasn't anywhere to be found. It was strange though because in the month that I've known her, she's never left her apartment. Not even for food. I always ended up bringing her groceries. _

_"Joseph." I heard from behind me and I turned to see Sam standing in the doorway of the apartment. _

_"Hey, Sam," I greeted. "Have you seen Judy? She actually left her apartment." _

_"We're actually here to remove her things," he explained and that's when I noticed that Dan standing behind him along with Barbara, and Bernie. _

_"Why?" I asked suspiciously._

_"She wasn't doing her job, so the higher-ups took her away," Sam explained. "No point in having a reaper that won't do her job." _

_"Yeah, and we have to get rid of any evidence of her so that people don't get suspicious," Dan said with a shrug. _

_"She's gone?" I asked sadly. _

_"Oh, don't worry about her, honey," Barbara said with a smile. "She's just moved on to a different plane of existence or something." _

_"But you don't know for sure, do you?" I asked. _

_"You know how the higher-ups are. They like to be secretive and mysterious," Bernie said. _

_"I wouldn't worry about it though," Dan said, slinging an arm over my shoulders. "Why don't you go ahead and I'll meet you at the zoo later." _

_I nodded and as I left the apartment, I could hear Barbara say behind me, "The zoo? Dan!" _

_"What?! I'm just playing!" _

_However, I was too numb over the news on Judy to really care what that meant._

* * *

I couldn't find him anywhere and I was starting to go through what I like to call an 'Elliot freak out.' I had checked the hotel, but he wasn't there, so my only other option was to check places he might be. As I rode around on Sasha checking just about every bar in the area, my thought process went a little like this: 

_I can't believe he skipped out on his reap! He is so stubborn! _

_He is definitely gonna get a stern talking to. _

_What if he left town? What if he left the state!? _

_What if I never find him again? That kid will be stuck in his body until his soul rots away and then who knows what? _

_Wait. What if not coming to the reap wasn't his decision? He could have gotten in a horrible accident! ...What am I saying? He would heal.. But then what if the accident trapped him somewhere? He could have been on a bus and the bus overturned and was smashed beyond recognition and he's trapped in a twisted pile of metal and then when help comes and rescues him, they'll see that he's perfectly fine and he'll be captured for horrible experiments and in the end, reapers all over the world will be exposed! _

_...I have to stop thinking like this before I drive myself into a freakin' ditch._

I could feel my cellphone vibrating in my pocket, so I pulled over to answer it.

Pulling off my hairmet, I said, "Hello?"

"Hey DJ."

"Jordan?" I asked before stupidly realizing that _of course_ Jordan's would be the place Dr. Cox would go.

"Yeah, listen, I need you to pass on a message to your cousin," she said.

"Did.. _Chris_ bother you again?" I asked, still not quite used to referring to Dr. Cox that way.

"He did stop by," she said. "But it's not an issue. The next time you see him, tell him that... I'm interested."

I paused for a moment to let that process before asking incredulously, "You're _what?_"

"I'll go have coffee with him," Jordan explained simply then said in her usual annoyed tone, "Just have him call me. Can you handle that, DJ?"

"I'll tell him when I see him," I said while mentally groaning. I tell him to stay away and of course he goes and makes it worse.

"Good," Jordan said before hanging up.

I slipped the phone back in my pocket before banging my head repeatedly on Sasha's handlebars. As if bailing on his reap wasn't bad enough, now I have this to deal with. I wonder if I annoyed Dr. Cox this much back when I was making all those stupid mistakes as an intern.

Pulling away from the sidewalk, I made a U-turn and headed back to my apartment. There was something I needed to get before I went to go talk to Dr. Cox...

* * *

Perry's POV 

I downed another shot and quirked an eyebrow at my competition. It was well into the night at this point and the college student before me swayed in his seat with a dazed look on his face as he reached for another shot. His fingers just barely touched the small glass before he slumped sideways out of his seat and passed out on the floor.

Raising my arms in the air victoriously, I crowed, "Who else thinks they can take on the champion?"

A girl in her early twenties stepped forward this time; looking quite confident that she could win. She probably suspected that I was at the end of my rope and about to pass out any minute. After all, I had already beaten three people and at this point had lost count of how many shots I had consumed.

Even after all that alcohol, I still didn't feel drunk. I only got a slight buzz every now and then, but it faded before I could even enjoy it. Of course, I pretended to be drunk, for appearances sake. Couldn't have them become suspicious, now could I?

More shots were set down on the table between us. Locking eyes, we both reached for our first shot and downed it in one gulp before grabbing the next shot, and another, and another after that...

While downing shot after shot, I suddenly heard over the cheering of the crowd an annoyingly familiar voice shout, "Damn it, _Chris_, I have a bone to pick with you!"

Not pausing in my drinking game, I glanced over and grimaced at the sight of Newbie pushing his way through the crowd. I threw him a quick death glare when he finally managed to reach the table and then turned my attention back to the drinking game.

Slamming a hand on the table, Newbie growled, "Do you realize how many bars I had to search to find you? Twenty-five and some of them have mentally scarred me for life."

I showed just how much I cared by throwing back another shot.

"Did you get a cellphone today?" he asked, frustrated, and I nodded. "Let me see it."

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and set it down on the table before grabbing another shot. The girl before me swayed in her seat as she too grabbed another shot and I smirked. It wouldn't be long now. Out of the corner of my eye, Newbie grabbed my phone and programmed my number into his own cellphone.

Setting my phone back down on the table, Newbie said, "Now that that's settled, I need to have a talk with you about a few things. Come on, let's go."

"I'm a little busy here, Newbie," I said.

"Oh, you're a little busy are you? Well I'm _so sorry_ to inconvenience you here, I can see that this is _much more_ important than the job I gave you this morning," he snapped.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, kid," I commented lightly.

"We're leaving," he said. "_Now._"

"Hold on for one minute," I said, and just like clockwork, the girl sitting across from me passed out in her chair. I collected my winnings and grudgingly followed Newbie out of the bar. At the sight of his geeky little bike, I said, "I am _not_ riding that, I hope you know."

He grabbed his bike by the handle bars and put up the kickstand before saying, "We'll walk and talk."

We headed off in a random direction and after walking in silence for a while, Newbie finally spoke, "Why didn't you show up for your second reap?"

"Oh come on, Newbie, you know why," I said with a snort.

He nodded and said, "It's hard starting out, but you can't just quit. Do you know what happens when a person doesn't die when it's their time? Their soul rots away in their body. It's something worse than death. Dr.." he paused. "_Perry_.."

Oh great, he's trying to connect with me.

"You need to come back to the hospital and release that kid's soul," Newbie said. "And you need to keep coming back to take care of every other one after that."

"I can't, Newbie," I finally admitted. "I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to help people. This goes against everything I know. Besides, you seem to be doing fine on your own."

"Only you can take care of your reaps, Perry. Not me and not anybody else," he said with a sympathetic smile. "That's just the way it works."

"What happens if I can't do this?" I asked.

"You... go away," he said with a distant look on his face.

I had no idea what that meant, but I knew that it couldn't be good. Any unknown place I would end up if I didn't do this was probably worse than the existence I led now. At least this way I could still see my son and Jordan as well as look in on everyone else.

"I'll try, Newbie," I said with a sigh. "I'll go in tomorrow to take care of it."

"Good," he said, nodding. "There's something else I need to talk to you about."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Jordan called," he began.

Crap.

"Perry, you can't keep seeing her," he said. "There are-"

"Consequences," I said with a sigh. "Yes, that's what you keep telling me, but you never mention what those consequences are."

"You _forget_," he said, stopping and putting up the kickstand on his bike. Turning to me, he said, "I was in the same position you're in now, Perry. I had just died and I couldn't let go of... my wife."

I blinked, completely floored, and had to run that through my mind again. Newbie had been _married?_ It just seemed too impossible to imagine him, a goofy commitaphobe, as a husband. Of course, now that I think about it, perhaps the reason why he's such a commitaphobe is because of his wife. The reaper thing probably has a little something to do with it too.

He pulled out an old newspaper clipping from his pocket and as he passed it over to me, he said, "Her name was Emily."

There's that past-tense again.

"I think we had been married about a year," he said thoughtfully, but he didn't sound too sure.

I looked down at the newspaper clipping to see a picture of a pretty good looking woman. In the picture, she had her arms wrapped around a man who definitely didn't look like Newbie. That's when I realized that the newspaper clipping was a wedding announcement.

"That's not you, is it, kid?" I asked.

He shook his head with a pained look on his face and said, "You know how it is, Per, people move on, but just like you, I couldn't." He paused for a moment and got a far-off look in his eyes before continuing, "I kept seeing her after I died. However, the Powers That Be or whoever it is that makes the rules up there doesn't like it when we keep in contact with the people we knew when we were alive. As punishment, they take away your memories so that you don't feel a need to keep seeing everyone you knew."

That figures. Goddamn, well, _God._

"It started out as little things for me at first," Newbie said. "Childhood memories and other things I didn't feel were that important as long as I could keep seeing Emily. She didn't fall for me the second time around though. Eventually I left her alone... until I saw the wedding announcement."

He ran a hand through his hair stressfully and with a lost look on his face, he explained, "I don't really remember what happened, but I woke up in a holding cell later on with barely any memories of my past life. Dan bailed me out not too long after that and told me that I crashed Emily's wedding and caused quite a scene.

"It was too late to save my memories though. I didn't even remember that I had a brother until later on when I saw it written on my gravestone," he said, bemused.

I didn't really know what to say to that except for, "That sucks, kid."

He nodded and said, "I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you. I can't stop you from seeing them, but think about it, do you really want to be with Jack and Jordan only to forget all the reasons why they're so important to you to begin with?"

"It's worth it," I said firmly, more to myself than him.

"That's what I thought too," Newbie said. "Because of that decision, I can't remember what it is that I loved about Emily so much or why, to this day, a part of me still pines for her. Now that she's gone, I realize that it's not worth it because now I have nothing to remember her by."

It had to be worth it. I couldn't just never see them again. I wanted to be there for Jack and watch him grow up. Jordan may be an evil fire-breathing demon, but she's _my_ evil fire-breathing demon and I'll be damned if I let her fall for somebody else like Newbie's wife did.

I looked back down at the newspaper clipping and imagined that it was Jordan in Emily's place with her arms wrapped around another man. I mentally growled at the thought. Staring at the wedding announcement, I suddenly noticed an interesting bit of information.

"April third, 1908?" I asked incredulously as my gaze snapped up to Newbie. "Just how the hell old are you?"

"Around one-hundred and thirty years old," he said sheepishly. "I died during the San Francisco outbreak in 1902."

I just stared at him with an 'are you kidding me?' look. How could someone be that old and live through so many different tragedies such as the Great Depression and WWII and _still_ have such a childish personality?

"Maybe I should be calling you grandpa instead of kid," I said.

"Please don't," he said. "Kid is fine, or, _or_, you know, JD."

"Sure thing _Josie._" I said lightly with a small grin. "So what'd Jordan say anyway?"

"Um," he said, hesitating. "I won't lie to you. She wants to go out and have coffee with you. But consider this before you make a decision: she's on the rebound and she's just using you as a replacement for, well, _you_, probably because you reminded her so much of _you_-"

"Just stop talking, Newbie, before you give yourself and aneurysm," I said.

"What I'm getting at is that it's just not healthy for either of you," he said. "It'll mess up the healing process and you know it."

"Why don't you let me worry about that. Okay, kid?" I said a little irritably.

"Fine," he sighed. "Do you need a ride to the hotel?"

"I'll catch a bus or a cab, don't worry about it," I said, waving him away.

He nodded before putting up the kickstand and rolling his scooter out into the street. Pulling on his ridiculous-looking helmet, he hopped on the scooter and turned it on, but before he rode away, he called back, "Remember, down in the morgue tomorrow you have your reap to take care of! I'll call you about any others!"

Right. Tomorrow it's back to the job from hell. First however, I have a coffee date with Jordan. I pulled out my cellphone and dialed her number.

"Hey, Jordan. It's Chris..."

* * *

_That's the end of chapter nineteen. Only a few more to go after this.  
_

_Review please!_


	20. Chapter 20

_Hello everyone! I'm here with chapter twenty for you all and then we just have a few after this. I would like to remind everyone that I will be writing other fics in the DLMScrubsverse after this one. Three of them, I think, and one will be a oneshot. So don't worry, it's not over yet._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

JDs POV

I had just finished with my last reap of the day and after seeing the man off to his bright light, I clocked in and picked up my patients' charts. Kelso felt I had enough mourning time and after telling me that the distraction of work would be good for me, he ordered me to be back to work today. So once again, I was walking around the hospital with my face mask in place as I took care of plague patients and a couple of non-plague patients.

After last night's talk with Perry, I truly wanted to believe that I got through to him and that everything was going to be okay now, but that seed of doubt just wouldn't go away. Perry was stubborn and could be sneaky when he wanted to be. I called him up this morning to give him his reap information for the day and he said he'd take care of it, but it was one of those 'I'll believe it when I see it' moments.

As Rube once said, he's a constipator, he mucks up the works. Until I was sure he could take care of his reaps on his own, I was going to have to watch him to make sure he got the job done. It was close to noon when his reap took place, and I waited outside the door to the patients' room for him to arrive. I waited and waited and periodically looked down at my watch to check the time. There was no sign of him, and as the minutes ticked by, my patience quickly disappeared.

From within the patients' room, I could hear Perry's reap, a middle aged woman, flat-line. My gaze darted around the halls, but saw no sign of Perry. With an annoyed growl, I swept into the room so that I could try and revive the woman. If I could somehow hold off her death, I would have enough time to drag Perry here to do his damn job. It was a futile effort though, the woman died anyway and I called her time of death to the nurses and other doctors.

With the sheet pulled over her bed, everyone else filed out of the room to take care of the procedures that needed to be done for the dead patient. I was left alone with one dead patient on my right, her soul still trapped in her body, and one unconscious patient on my left.

I glared at the ground and felt so completely pissed off. It was a type of senseless rage that makes you want to break something, or burn something, or maybe just throw a TV off of the roof. Perry _lied_ once again and now another person was suffering.

I heard a gasp from my left and looked over to see the once unconscious patient now staring at me with wide eyes. He gaped like a fish for a moment before stumbling over his words as he said, "Oh God. Oh.. Please no. I'm.. I'm not ready to die. I have a family!"

I heaved a sigh and before walking out the door, I said, "You're not going to die."

At least not today. He looked close though, so maybe tomorrow. Man, I hated being around the terminally ill. I could never have a decent conversation with them because they'd be too busy begging me to let them live. That also made for an awkward conversation around my co-workers. I always ended up having to shrug it off and say that the person must be delusional.

I headed down to the morgue once again to inform Doug of his new, soul-ridden arrival-to-be. Since Perry never showed up for his reap, I doubted that he had come down to take care of Zach, so that would make this the second dead person with a soul to be down here.

Doug's graveling hissed at me from a corner as I entered the room and it scurried over to a shelf to knock some stuff over. Doug, apparently used to this behavior by now, didn't seem to notice or care.

I opened my mouth to tell Doug the bad news, but before I could get a word out, Doug, who just now noticed my presence, exclaimed, "JD, I am _so sorry!_ They took him away when I was off of my shift. There was nothing I could do about it, I swear!"

"Doug, what are you talking about?" I asked with a feeling of dread.

"Zach Copley's family claimed his body yesterday. I tried to stop it, but there wasn't anything I could do," Doug explained nervously. "The funeral's tomorrow."

"What time tomorrow?" I asked.

"Um, around nine, I think," Doug said. "It's at the same place Dr. Cox's funeral was at."

Damnit, that was too soon. I didn't have enough time to track down the body and then drag Perry there to take care of things before the funeral. Zach was practically going to be buried alive. I didn't know what to do. I didn't think there was really anything I could do. I said everything I could possibly say to Perry to convince him to take on his reaper responsibilities and still nothing got through to him.

He's been a major pain in my ass, but... I didn't want him to just_ go away._

"Doug, you have another body with a soul coming down here soon," I said dully. "Sarah Grash. Try to keep anything from happening to her."

"Yeah, I'll look after her," Doug said, and I could tell he wanted to question me about why this was happening again. I had said I'd take care of things and I didn't. Doug looked doubtful, but he didn't say anything.

The graveling pushed an occupied body bag off of the examination table, and as Doug turned to pick it up, I left the morgue. As I walked through the halls of Sacred Heart, I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through its phone book until I reached Perry's name. I didn't know what to do or what to even really say, but I had to say something to him.

I pressed 'call.'

* * *

Perry's POV 

I sat across from Jordan at a small table in a Coffeebucks. She had a bagel along with her coffee, and I had a doughnut. We had been there for about half an hour now, exchanging small talk and just awkwardly sitting there.

"So you just came down here and left behind a job and everything you own so that you could help out DJ?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I guess," I said with a shrug.

I was basically bullshitting most of what I told her because I hadn't previously come up with a side story to tell her.

"So what do you do for a living?" she asked without much interest. I knew she really didn't care what my life was like and was probably more interested in this leading to sex (which really isn't that different from how our relationship had been before). Though I'll never admit it, Newbie was right about one thing, she was on some sort of grieving rebound. Still, I believed that over time this would turn into something more than just rebound sex.

"Oh, you know, this and that," I said vaguely before changing the subject, "What about you though, tell me about your life."

Before she could say something though, my cellphone went off and I mentally winced. I thought I had turned it off.

"Well, go ahead and answer it," she told me in an annoyed tone.

I really wasn't leaving too good of an impression on her.

I flipped open the phone and growled, "What?"

"Oh really, you're going to give me that attitude after you bailed on me _again?_" Newbie's voice snapped over the phone and I sighed.

"I'm a little busy here, John," I said. "I'll take care of it later."

"No, you need to take care of it _when_ it happens!" Newbie said. "It's your job now and you can't just choose whenever you want to go into work." He paused to growl something to himself before asking, "What could be so important that... You're with her right now, aren't you?"

"I might be," I said as I threw Jordan an apologetic look.

"You know what? Fine, go head! You don't listen to a thing I say anyway," he grumbled, then paused before saying, "Since you have so much free time on your hands now, being unemployed and all, the least you could do is bring the puppy to his obedience classes. I've missed the last few lessons."

"I thought you weren't keeping the dog," I pointed out.

"Just do this for me," he said, exasperated. "Drop the puppy off at my apartment afterwards. If you can't handle your job, I don't expect you to be responsible enough to take care of a puppy."

"Fine," I relented. "Bye."

I didn't know what got _his_ panties in a bunch. I was going to take care of my reaps eventually. I guess he changed his mind on that though.

I hung up the phone and turned it on silent before slipping it into my pocket. Turning my attention back to Jordan, I said a bit sheepishly, "Um, John just wanted me to bring his dog to obedience classes."

"Uh-huh," she said slowly before she stood up from the table with a fake smile. "You have fun with that, I have to be somewhere anyway."

"Wait, you're leaving?" I asked, standing up myself.

"Yeah, like I said, I have somewhere to be," she said, glancing down at her watch.

"Could you.. give me a ride to my hotel?" I asked a bit hesitantly. I definitely wasn't on her good side right now, but I didn't want to have to ride public transportation again.

"You don't have a car?" she asked.

"I left it behind when I came down here," I lied.

"That was a stupid thing to do," she said, then sighed, "Alright, I'll give you a ride, but we're picking up my brat from preschool."

I nodded before following Jordan to her car and sitting down in the passenger's seat with a smile. I would get to see my son again, and not just briefly like last night. Of course, there wasn't much I could say to him or anything, but just seeing him would be enough.

We arrived at the preschool and I waited outside while Jordan went in to get him. I stood leaning against the car with my arms crossed over my chest and my eyes on the front entrance. It wasn't long before my little boy came racing out of the school with Jordan walking calmly behind him. He rushed over to the car, but then stopped short when he saw me.

Tilting his head to one side, he gave me a curious look before calling out questioningly, "Mom?"

"It's fine, sweetie," Jordan assured him. "He came by last night, remember? Mommy went to go have coffee with him while you were at school."

He shrugged, accepting the answer, and I kneeled down on the ground so that I was at his eye-level. I was glad that he was wary of a stranger, I taught him right, but I was also saddened by the fact that to him, I was that stranger.

Still, I put a friendly smile on my face and said, "Hey there..."

I trailed off and blinked, a frown forming on my face. Suddenly the situation was all wrong. Yes, I got to see my son again, but-

"Something wrong?" Jordan asked, walking up behind our kid and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing," I said automatically. "I just... don't know his name."

"It's Jack," she said simply before leading _Jack_ around me and over to the backseat of the car. I stood up and watched her hook him into the car seat in the back.

Jack. That's right, his name is Jack, but for a moment there, I didn't know that. I didn't know my own son's name. Wasn't I the one that gave him that name? I'm not sure, I can't really remember. It's hazy.

I looked up at the sky and I knew this was _their_ doing. Whoever it is that controls things up there was giving me a small warning, and I knew that the next time around it was going to be much worse. What if I forget that I was even together with Jordan when I was alive, or what if I forget that Jack is my son and not some dead guy's? What if _I_ decide this time around that I don't care to be with Jordan and Jack? Could I handle something like that? Do I really want to take that risk?

It was worth it, it had to be...

But what if it isn't worth it?

"You coming or not?" Jordan asked from her seat at the driver's side.

I nodded numbly and got into the passenger's side. She drove me to my hotel and dropped me off at the front entrance. Neither of us said anything about calling the other.

The puppy greeted me when I entered my room. Thrilled to have some company and attention, he wagged his tail and stayed glued to my feet as I walked over to grab his leash. He yipped a couple times when he saw me holding the leash and jumped up on me. I pushed him off and attached the leash to his collar. Heading out the door, I took the stairs and went out a back way with him dragging me along with enough strength to pull a sled.

We took a cab to where the classes were held. I knew the location because while I had been incorporeal, Newbie had mentioned it. The class took place at a large pet store in a busy plaza. I signed the fluff ball in and only half listened when the lesson started. I was just too distracted by everything going on in my life... afterlife. Besides, there really wasn't too much I could teach the pup anyway considering he didn't have a name I could address him by.

While the teacher was going over the basics (sit, lie down, heal), I noticed a scruffy looking girl leaning against the plastic walls that fenced off the class. She looked to be around five years old and was currently eyeing the different dogs with an oddly serious look on her face. She also looked homeless, or at least not well off. Her clothes looked old, worn down, and dirty and her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks. She wore a jean jacket too big for her over a pink, puffy dress with green leggings and an orange ski hat to top it all off.

I turned my attention back to the class, only occasionally glancing at the girl, and listened to the teacher at she told us how to properly walk a dog. Apparently tugging wasn't the way it was done. The lecture part of the class ended and everyone was left to try the tricks out on their dogs while the teacher walked around to help.

Looking down at the German shepherd who paced around my feet, I said, "Well, you heard the lady. Sit."

He paused to look at me with one ear flopped down and the other pointed up before returning to his pacing.

"Okay," I said with a shrug. "But if Newbie asks, I tried."

"You gotta push down his bum when you tell him to sit," I heard a young voice say matter-of-factly from my right and I turned to see the little girl standing there. "What's his name?"

"He doesn't have one," I stated.

She frowned, "Are you sure? Maybe someone else named him."

"Nope, no name," I said.

"You should name him soon then," she said. "A name is important."

Then she walked off and approached the next nearest dog and its owner. I raised an eyebrow at her and got that whole twilight zone feeling. After talking to the owner for a moment, she walked over to another dog and it's owner. This time she smiled at whatever the third owner said and after a few more word exchanged, she reached down and pet the dog. As she stroked her hand along the golden retriever's back, I saw a brief glowing residue left behind. The owner of the golden retriever remained completely oblivious and went back to training.

My eyes widened at the sight of the glow. She was a reaper? But she was so young, and it was a dog she took care of, not the owner. The little girl walked out of the store, and with a light tug of the lease, I walked out after her with the puppy trotting next to me.

I caught up to her a little ways outside the front door and stupidly asked, "You're a reaper?"

"Yeah, so what? You're one too," she said with a raised eyebrow and a condescending look.

Ignoring the fact that she knew I was a reaper too, I said, "I wasn't aware there are reapers for animals."

"Animals have souls too, dumb-dumb," she said, looking miffed.

I closed my mouth because I really didn't want to get into a fight with a five-year-old and I didn't quite know what to say to her.

"How old are you?" I asked after a moment.

"I died when I was seven, but that was three years ago. So ten, I guess," she said with a careless shrug.

The puppy walked over to her to sniff her, and she reached a hand down to pet him, but I jerked him back before she could. She crossed her arms and frowned at me.

"You're very young to be doing this," I commented.

"You're very _old_ to be doing this," she said. "There's not a _right_ age to be doing this, stupid."

I glared at her and could swear that she was Jordan's illegitimate child.

"What's your name, kid?" I asked.

"Riley," she said. "Why? What's _your_ name?"

"Perry."

"The new plaguie," she said in recognition, and at my curious look, she said, "Word travels fast among reapers. So what do you want, _Perry?_"

"Nothing, just... You're so young," I murmured.

"Yeah, you keep saying that."

"Don't you miss your family?" I asked and had no idea why I was even talking to her.

"Duh," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But how is anyone supposed to heal if they keep opening up an old wound?" Muttering 'dumb-dumb' once again, she turned to walk away.

"Wait," I said, and she paused to look at me over her shoulder. "Do you need any money or something?" She was a brat, but she was still a kid.

"I can take care of myself, you know," she said stubbornly. "Mentally speaking, I'm a lot older than you realize. Death does that to you, it makes you stronger."

"Well, if you ever need help or anything, you can find me at Sacred Heart Hospital," I said.

"Whatever," she grunted as she walked away.

Shaking my head, I pulled out my cellphone to call up another cab. The class was over by now, so the only thing left to do was drop the fur ball off at Newbie's place. As I stood on the sidewalk with the puppy walking around my feet, wrapping me up in the leash, I suddenly heard someone call out, "Buster, heal! Heal!" This was soon followed by the screech of a car's tires and a dull thud. I didn't have to look to know what had happened to the golden retriever.

I sighed.

"You see? That's why you should listen to what I tell you," I told the puppy who had gone still at my feet and was watching the scene. He gave off one whining howl before going silent again.

I reached down and pet him on the head.

* * *

JD's POV 

Carla wasn't too happy at the sight of the puppy when we all came home after our shift, but she let it slid for now. Truthfully, I had no idea what I was going to do. Perry wasn't doing his job, the souls were rotting away in their bodies, and not a single person was interested in taking the puppy off my hands. At this point, I wasn't even quite sure I wanted to give the dog away. I hate to admit it, but I've grown attached to the little guy.

If I kept him though, that would just add even more problems. The apartment had a 'no pets' policy, so he couldn't stay here. Also, Carla would be having a baby soon, and having a dog around the house could be risky. While I'm on that subject, _I_ couldn't live here forever either. With a new baby, Carla and Turk would want their space at home to raise the kid, and I wasn't oblivious enough to believe that I could be a part of that space. I'd need to eventually move out.

Maybe I could stay at one of my reap's former houses. I've done it before.

I got up early the next morning and dressed up in my funeral clothes that have seen a lot of action lately. I was going to Zach Copley's funeral because I'm responsible for what's happening to him. If I had been a better reaper teacher, Perry would have done his job and got the kid's soul out.

So I went to the funeral and I stood in the back and listened to the priest's speech that sound fairly close to what was said about Perry. The ceremony eventually ended and the casket lowered into the ground. I felt panic surge through my stomach because the boy was still in there, completely conscious. I wanted to rush over there and pull the boy from his casket, steal the body even, but I didn't. I just stood there and watched. A plan like that would be stupid and spur-of-the-moment. I needed a better idea that wouldn't get me caught and would save the boy.

Glaring at nothing, I left the cemetery, scheming of way that would fix everything.

* * *

_End of chapter 20. I believe there are two more chapters after this before I move onto the next story of this series. Hopefully Perry wasn't OOC in this, he's harder to write. _

_Review please!_


	21. Chapter 21

_Hello everyone! Here's chapter 21 for you all. Enjoy!_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

JD's POV

I got back to the apartment a little later on and parked Sasha in her usual spot. Carla and Turk were working a shift and I had the day off, so I'd have the place to myself. By habit, I checked the mail on my way up to our place and while most of it was bills and junk mail, there was one letter addressed to me that stuck out.

It was from a life insurance company.

Unlocking the door and walking into our complex, I tossed the other mail onto the kitchen table before sitting down on the couch and turning on the TV for some background noise. I stared down at the ominous letter in my hand. I knew I should open it, but I wasn't really sure if I wanted to. It could be nothing, it could just be an offer from a life insurance company, or it could be...

..because of Dan.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the letter and skimmed through the first piece of paper I pulled out. Yes, it was because of Dan. The company was apologizing for my loss and then telling me that Dan had wanted all of his life insurance to go to me.

I really shouldn't be too surprised. It wasn't uncommon for reapers to get life insurance when they knew they were close to reaching their quota. That way they could move on up to the next plane of existence, reassured by the fact that the ones they left behind were taken care of. Pretty much like knowing when you're going to die, when you think about it.

Dan wanted all of his life insurance to go to me. Not anybody else in our division, just me.

Setting aside the company's letter, I pulled another piece of paper out of the envelope. It was a check from the company and _wow_ that was a lot of money. A _whole_ lot of money. I've never had this much money before in my life.

Like any normal person, I thought of all the things I could spend it on. First I thought of the fun things that I wanted to spend it on, and then I thought of the more practical things. Things like my student loans or things like-

_"If you got your own house, you could keep him."_

A house. I could actually afford to have a house built on my plot of land. I would actually be a home owner. I've never owned a house before, not in the one-hundred and thirty years I've been around. Also, if I had my own place, I could keep the puppy.

That was probably his plan the whole time.

"Hey, pup!" I called out, standing up from the couch and looking around the apartment for him. He hadn't run to greet me at the door like he usually did. "I've got some news for you!"

Still, he didn't come out, which was strange because he usually would when he heard me calling like that. Thinking that perhaps he was sleeping, I walked over to my room to check on the bed for him. He tended to stay out of Turk and Carla's room, so my room or the bathroom was really the only option.

When I reached my room, I froze in the doorway and stared down at the mess on the carpet, completely horrified. Strewn about the carpet were little bits of shredded newspaper, and not just any newspaper, but my obituaries. The mutt had gotten into my shoebox and tore everything to pieces.

Slowly, as if in a daze, I walked over to the mess and slumped down to my knees among it. It was gone, all of it gone. Not a single clipping could be salvage. Seeing a scrap of something different from all the rest of the newspaper clippings, my heart stopped.

_No._

I gently picked the picture up off the ground and stared at it with watering eyes. _Emily._ I could hardly recognize her though the chew marks, but it was definitely a picture of Emily. My eyes were then drawn to a box in a corner of the room. It was smaller than my obituary box and had been used to hold mementos of my previous life. Newspaper clippings and pictures of Emily. A picture that I believe was probably of my family. A wedding ring that I robbed off my own body many years ago.

The box was empty now. Everything had been torn to bits and was mixed up among the obituaries. The little beast probably ate the wedding ring because I couldn't see that anywhere either.

My entire past, gone. There was nothing left. My wife, my family, and now Dan too. As I sat among the remains of my past, something inside of me just snapped.

"You are _out of here_, mutt! You hear that? You have pushed me too far!" I shouted, standing up and leaving my room in search of the dog. "You can't hide from me forever!"

I searched the living room and the kitchen for the little monster, but he wasn't hiding anywhere around there, so I moved on to Turk and Carla's room. The best place to hide would be the place you never went, though I wasn't sure if he was that smart.

I burst into the room and it only took me a second to see the puppy cowering under a small desk in the corner. He knew he was in trouble.

"Get out here!" I snapped, marching over to him.

He darted out from under the desk quicker than I could blink and was already past me and out the bedroom door. I stormed after him, more furious than I ever remember being in my entire afterlife. I chased him around the couch, making grabs for him but missing. With his ears down and his tail between his legs, he made a break for the kitchen, and it was only a matter of minutes before I had him cornered against the lower cabinets.

I stood before him, my hands clenched into fists, and he was crouched down as low to the ground as he could possibly get in a show of submission. I glared down at him, and growled to myself because really, there wasn't much I could do. He may have destroyed the things most important to me, but he was still just a puppy and I wasn't going to hit a puppy, much less a dog.

Turning on the sink faucet next to me, I practically moaned in grief, "That was my past, you bastard!" Grabbing the sink sprayer, I turned it on the pup and sprayed him, the cabinets and floor with water. He ducked his head down with his eyes closed but stayed where he was. "You ate it all. Those things were irreplaceable, I'll never get them back! Did my ring taste good, huh? I hope it gives you indigestion!"

An involuntary sob escaped my throat and I stopped my water assault. The soaked pup darted around me, leaving a wet trail in his wake. He skidded out of the kitchen and out of sight, but I didn't go after him. I turned off the sink faucet and walked away from the kitchen like a zombie.

It was all too much and I couldn't take it anymore. I needed an escape, a release of some sort, even if for just a moment. I dragged myself into the bathroom and halfheartedly shut the door behind me. I stared into the bathroom mirror and watched as tears trailed down my face. I pulled back the mirror to reveal the cabinet behind it, and as I looked at all the different medicines littering the shelves, I remembered a reaper I once met whose mission in life was to find the ultimate high.

His name was Mason. Mason, Mason, _Mason_. He was quite the character, and he told me many tips and tricks when it came to getting completely smashed.

_"Take double the amount that would kill a living person if you want to get past that whole metabolism thing."_

I grabbed a few bottles of over-the-counter medicine, knowing I could always buy more if Carla and Turk needed it.

_"Extreme blood loss is the best way to get that warm, fuzzy, light-headed feeling._"

I pulled one of the blades off of my razor, cutting my fingers in the process. I barely ever used it before, might as well put it to good use now.

Opening the first bottle, I swallowed mouthfuls of pills at a time before moving on to the next bottle and then another bottle after that. I dropped to the ground heavily and crept over to the toilet. I put the seat up first before dragging the razor blade down one arm.

_"Always remember: down the street, not across the street."_

'_Good ol' Mason,_' I thought to myself as I dunked my bloody arm into the toilet and flushed, watching the water suck away the blood. I didn't exactly know how well that would work, but I've heard of the suicidal people in the hospital doing it and felt it was worth a try.

I wasn't trying to stupidly kill myself or anything, dieing was impossible for me, and it wasn't like I even wanted to die, I was perfectly happy with living. I just wanted to lose myself in the pain and lightheaded high and forget about all my problems for one small moment.

So I sat in front of the toilet, re-opening the wound every time it healed, and sticking my arm in the water and flushing. As my body became weaker, I lost control of my emotions and was sobbing like the little girl Perry always accused me of being. It continued on like this for who knows how long, I lost track of time. Crying and cutting and bleeding. Tears mixed with blood in the water before being sucked away with each flush.

Then for one beautiful moment, my mind was floating and I blanked on everything. I didn't think, I didn't care, I felt no emotions, as if I didn't exist, and then everything went black.

The next thing I was aware of was the cool tiles of the bathroom floor pressing against my skin. My arm ached for only a moment before the pain disappeared completely, and I felt sluggish, as if my blood had been replaced by lead. As my mind slowly came back to earth, I could hear scratching nearby followed by a concerned whining.

Not really thinking too much, I dragged myself across the floor and over to the bathroom door. With a heavy arm, I reached up and turned the knob, letting the door open a crack. The puppy, still wet from our last encounter, pushed his way past the door and walked over to me. My arm dropped from the door knob back down to the floor and I closed my eyes when the puppy licked my face. He sniffed me over for a moment before curling up against me and settling down. He smelled like wet dog, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. Instead, I lay a limp arm over him and drifted back off to sleep.

When I next woke up, I was much more coherent and felt like I was almost back to normal. I also felt a whole lot better emotionally, like I was going to be okay and I could handle what's been thrown at me. Women are right, sometimes you just need to have a good cry.

The puppy was still there, laying next to me, and I ruffled the fur on his head, waking him up. He looked at me, shaking slightly.

"You're a nuisance and a real pain, you know that," I said, sitting up and petting him. "It seems to work for you though." He got to his feet and shuddered before bending down.

"What is it?" I asked, a tad concerned.

Then he threw up and sitting there in the small puddle of puppy vomit was my wedding ring.

Petting him soothingly on the back, I said, "I really appreciate that. That's really gross, but thank you still."

I looked from the puppy vomit to the empty pill bottles to the blood splattering the toilet and the floor around the toilet. Sighing, I said, "Looks like we've got a lot of cleaning up to do before Carla and Turk get home."

I cleaned the bathroom first and then washed the blood off my arm before changing into some clean clothes. I dried off the puppy as best as I could with a towel and then just left the towel on the ground for him to roll around on. I cleaned up the water in the kitchen, but the water trails on the carpet would have to dry on their own.

All that was left after that was my room. I gathered up all the paper shreds and threw them away in the kitchen trash. I still thought it sucked that it happened, but I was going to be okay with it. At least I still had the ring which was now clean and hanging on a chain around my neck.

It was around the time when I finished cleaning that I got a call. It was someone responding to my flier and asking about the puppy. A few hours ago I would have said _hell yes_, but now...

"I'm sorry, but the offer is no longer available. Yes.. That's okay, bye," I hung up the phone and looked over at the German Shepherd who was laying on his back on the towel.

"Guess you'll need a name now, huh?" I said, thinking over all sorts of names, but it was already obvious what this pain-in-the-ass who at times lived to annoy me should be called.

"Danny. It's fitting."

He rolled back over to his stomach and rubbed his nosed against the towel.

"Well, Danny, now that that's all straightened out, there's one last problem that I need to take care of. You hold down the fort while I'm gone."

Grabbing what I needed, I headed out the door and down the apartment stairs to Sasha. I was a man on a mission.

* * *

Perry's POV 

I stood on the roof of an apartment complex that was directly across from Jordan's apartment and stared down at the windows that I knew were her windows. I don't know how long I had been standing there watching, I just knew that the sun had set and it was dark now.

'_What am I doing here?_' I wondered. '_What could I possibly accomplish by standing here?_'

I guess I was trying to decide what I'd do about this situation for now on. If I kept in contact with her, the memory loss would be inevitable, and then who knows what? If I stopped seeing her, I would have my memories, but I wouldn't have them.

I heard the door behind me open and close with a squeak, and this was soon followed by: "I figured I'd find you around here somewhere."

I glanced over my shoulder at Newbie before looking back down at the windows, "I didn't hear you drive up."

"You were probably too distracted," he said as he came to stand beside me.

I said nothing.

"You have to let them go, Perry."

"I don't know if I can," I admitted. It's funny, I wasn't _this _attached to them when I was alive, but now...

"You have to try," he said adamantly. "If you don't, this will only screw them up in the end. How healthy can it be for them to be around someone who is exactly like the father and ex-husband they lost?"

"What about me, huh?" I asked, glaring at him. "How much do you think this will screw me up in the end if I never see them again?"

"Are you really that selfish?" he snapped. "Okay, fine, let's talk about you. You'll stay with them and never grow any older because we _can't_ get older, and not only will that put the reaper secret at risk, but that will end up screwing all of you over when they die and you keep on living. Then, when they _are_ gone, you'll have nothing to remember them by except what you know from those years spent with them."

"Shut up," I growled.

"And who's to even say that the Higher Powers won't take away those memories too," he continued, ignoring me. "What are you going to tell them when they ask you why you still look the same after twenty or so years? There's no explanation for that!"

"Well what about you, you hypocrite? What are you going to tell your friends when they grow old and you don't?" I asked him, my fists clenched.

"I'm going to do what I have to do and fake my death when the time comes," Newbie said. "It's what us plaguies have to do, and it's what _you're_ eventually going to have to do. Or are you going to decide against doing that too?"

He gave me a condescending look.

"I don't care if you rank higher than me in your _freak _reaper world, Josie, I don't have to listen to you and there's nothing you can do about it," I said.

"You were a selfish stubborn bastard when you were alive and you're even _worse_ now that you're dead," he said with a frustrated growl. "You may not admit it, but you used to care about your patient's welfare and you used to care about what happened to your family."

"I do too care about my patients which is why I don't kill them and I care about my family which is why I'm trying to help them through this time," I said.

"No, you're letting those people's souls rot away in their body and you're keeping open an emotional wound for your family," he said, and then he _shoved_ me away from the roof's ledge. "The only person you care about is _yourself!_"

I stumbled back a few paces and then shoved him right back, "You don't know what you're talking about Newbie."

"You're the 'newbie' this time, Perry, and I _do_ know what I'm talking about," he snapped, glaring at me with his hands fisted at his side. "You're only looking out for _your_ best needs. Only _Perry_ matters. Everyone else can go to hell, isn't that right?" he said mockingly.

I ground my teeth and gave him my best death glare.

"What's wrong, little newbie? Am I upsetting you?" he asked with a fake look of concern. "That's a pretty murderous look right there. Does Percival want to kill me? Oh, but wait, you can't. This whole situation is completely out of your control, and you can't stand it."

"Newbie, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" he asked, not looking frightened at all. What ever happened to the good old days when he would run in fear whenever I glared at him? "If you're going to do something, then do it. Go ahead and hit me already!"

So I did. I punched him right across the face and he stumbled back a step with the force of the blow. My fist stung for only a second before healing, and I stood before him, ready and waiting for his move. He only took a few seconds to recover before lunging forward and punching me right back.

Then we both just went at it completely. Punching and kicking, neither of us held back knowing that the blows were only temporary. I got him in the stomach and he went down, hunched over on the ground. He surprised me by knocking my feet out from under me with a strength I wasn't aware he possessed. I hit the ground hard and he was on me before I could recover, grabbing me by the neck and slamming my head against the ground.

"You should be thinking more positively," he snapped between blows. "Your family is _here!_ Your family is_ alive!_ You know your family is _well!_"

I kneed him in the groin and kicked him off of me. We were both on the ground, panting and waiting for recovery to come before getting up and going at it again. It seemed like this would go on forever with no possible way for either of us to win. We could both hold our own and we could both heal from any blow we couldn't dodge. We were too evenly matched and there was nothing up on the roof that could turn the tides.

Then I had Newbie backed up against the roof's ledge and thought to myself, '_Duh, you moron, the roof!_'

What was the harm, really? Like he said before, he couldn't die.

My mind made up, I reached out and pushed as hard as I could. With no room to regain his footing, Newbie hit the ledge hard and lost his balance. It seemed like one of those slow motion moments with Newbie bent halfway over the ledge, his arms waving in the air in search of support. It was futile though, there was nothing to save him, and just as a smirk spread across my face, the kid reached out and grabbed hold of the front of my shirt.

Then he was falling backwards right over the edge and I was dragged over with him. My stomach and legs scraped against the ledge before I was falling with only air around me and Newbie just at arm's length. With the roof four stories up and gravity working against us, I only had enough time to think '_This is __**really**__ gonna hurt_' before we collided with the pavement.

White hot agony was all I was really aware of. Everything hurt. It hurt more than all of the beatings I received as a child combined. My blood decorated the pavement around me and mixed together with Newbie's blood. The crimson liquid poured out of my mouth, nose, ears, eyes and the back of my head like a faucet. My bones felt like dust. I couldn't even find it in me to scream. I just lay there silently bearing my pain.

Slowly, _far too slowly_, it faded away. My bones reformed, as did the back of my head. Any torn skin healed over, and while the blood wasn't sucked back into me, my body worked to replace what I had lost.

I heard a gurgling cough from beside me, and looked over without really moving my head. Newbie lay there, looking to be in the same state as I was. We both landed face up.

"_Bastard,_" he breathed, not moving, just waiting for the healing to finish. "You didn't have to push me."

"You didn't have to drag me down with you," I ground out through the fading pain.

"Seemed fair to me," he said, and I saw him wince as one of his broken arms _snapped_ back into place.

We lay there in silence for a while after that. Once our bones were all healed and our skin grew back, we sat up, leaning against the apartment complex we just fell off of, waiting for our blood to be replenished. Thankfully we had landed in a side alley of the apartment, so nobody saw out little reaper display.

"Now see, don't you feel better?" Newbie asked, looking over at me.

Giving him a look, I said, "Are you on something Pricilla? That was the most painful thing I've ever experienced in my entire life."

He shook his head slightly, "No, I mean, we've both been bottling things up _so much_ lately. It's amazing we haven't killed anyone because of it." I gave him another look, and he added, "Killed someone who wasn't our reap. And I told you before, what we do is not killing." changing the subject, he said, "You needed this as much as I did. Maybe even more."

"So you purposely egged me on into a fight?" I asked.

"If I say 'yes,' will you hit me again?"

"No," I sighed. He had a point, but that was an interesting way to go about it. Of course, that was probably the_ reaper_ way of going about it.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe I knocked a few screws loose in the fall, but whatever the reason, I actually opened my mouth and started up what was bound to be a heart-to-heart with the kid.

"I know I can't see them anymore," I said quietly. "Yesterday I forgot my own son's name, and that was just one of the most horrible things to experience. I couldn't take it if I forgot everything about them, or about everyone else. It's just... difficult, you know? She actually wanted to start something with Chris Warrender. I had an in, but..."

The kid nodded in understanding, and said, "It just takes time. Eventually you'll reach a point where things are good for you."

Newbie stood and stretched as if he was checking to see that everything reconnected correctly. Turning to me, he asked, "You ready?"

"For what?"

"We're going to the cemetery," he explained. "I want to get your reaps straightened out tonight and put this whole thing behind us."

"Yeah, I'm ready," I said, pushing myself to my feet.

"Great!" he said cheerfully. "Hope you're up for shoveling."

* * *

We arrived at the cemetery on his geeky little scooter. Usually I wouldn't be caught dead riding the bitch seat of his little bike (unless it was for revenge), but Newbie brought up a good point that it would be suspicious if we called a cab to drive us to a cemetery late at night. 

We went to the cemetery tool shed first. Apparently the kid pulled some strings and the doors had been left unlocked, allowing us to grab two shovels. With my shovel in hand, I followed Newbie across the cemetery to where my reap had been buried. As we walked, I kept seeing some dark figures moving out of the corner of my eyes, but every time I looked, there was nothing there.

We reached the gravesite, and the dirt looked fresh, so it wouldn't take too much effort to dig up the coffin. Plunging my shovel into the soil, I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. I let my reap get buried, and something like that just seemed really disrespectful. It took a few hours before we hit the coffin and brushed the dirt off of it.

"How do we know if the soul is rotten?" I asked, feeling even more guilty.

What does it even mean for a soul to rot away?

"They don't look human anymore," he explained. "Believe me, you'll be able to tell."

I opened up the coffin to reveal a young boy inside. He couldn't have been over the age of seven and the funeral clothes he was dressed in looked strange on someone so young.

"Looks like the job's done to me," I said, still staring down at the boy who looked very dead to me.

"He's still in there though," Newbie said. "His soul is in there and is aware of what's happening around him."

My eyes widened, imagining everything this boy had gone through, and asked, "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I have been, haven't I?" he said, giving me a look. "I told you it was important. I _told_ you that you have to be their _when_ it happens. Does the term 'rotting souls' ring any bells with you?"

Instead of saying anything, I looked back at the boy and brushed my fingers along his arm, finally releasing his soul. His soul sat up out of his body with a horrified gasp. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. After a moment of shocked silence, sparkling tears ran down his face and he just started sobbing.

I gathered the boy up into my arms and he latched around my neck tightly. Newbie stepped away and let me handle things. As I held the crying child in my arms, I imagined what it would be like if the boy were Jack and this had happened to him.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to him, climbing out of the grave with him in my arms. I sat down on the wet grass and rocked the kid back and forth. "You're okay. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe now."

I don't know how long I sat there, comforting the kid in my arms. Eventually his crying subsided and he pulled away from me with red eyes, hiccupping occasionally.

"See? You're fine," I told him. "And you're going to go to a happy place with really cool looking lights and all sorts of fun things like that. Okay?"

He nodded, still hiccupping, and then the sky above us lit up like it was daytime. The three of us looked up to see a space craft hovering above us. It looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie and it looked, dare I say it, completely _heavenly._

"That's your ride," I told him. He still said nothing, just staring up at the ship with wide eyes. "Are you scared?"

He shook his head, smiling tentatively up at the ship.

"Good," I said. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

A beam of light shot from the ship down to the ground near us. I let go of the boy, my arms falling to my sides.

"Well, go on then," I told him.

Standing up from my lap, he raced right over to the light beam and straight into it. Turning into lights himself, the beam carried him up to the ship. Newbie walked over to me and stood by my side. We both watched the ship hover there for a moment before shooting up into the sky and disappearing completely.

The whole thing had been completely amazing and it made me understand the importance of our job. As cheesy as the saying is, death is only the beginning. If it weren't for us reapers, people would have no way of escaping their physical forms and traveling to... wherever that ship went.

"You ready to go to the morgue?" was all Newbie said.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go."

* * *

_Yay! Done with twenty-one! The epilogue is after this and then on to the next story. Oh, and I'm sure you all know I don't condone ODing and cutting and all that jazz. Also, those dark figures Perry saw in the graveyard were grave__lings. (get it?) Cemeteries are common hang-outs for them. _

_Review please!_


	22. Chapter 22: Epilogue

_Hey everyone! This is it for My So-Called Afterlife. I don't have a title yet for the next fic, so just keep an eye out._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 22 Epilogue**

JD's POV

When I told Turk and Carla the news about my moving out, they acted both sad and a bit happy. Carla was getting to be pretty far along now in her pregnancy, so I suppose they were going to eventually tell me that I had to move out. I already hired a building contractor to get my house all set and built on my plot of land, but in the meantime, I had to stay someplace else until everything was complete. I declined Turk and Carla's offer to let me stay until things were finished because I couldn't be sure how long it would take for my place to be built.

Luckily, one of my recent reaps lived alone at a small apartment and said it was fine if I crashed there for a while. I might have to pay rent for a couple months, but I had enough left over from the life insurance money to cover it if I couldn't with my paychecks.

Carrying a box of some of my things up the stairs, I fumbled with the keys to the apartment door. I was only moving some of the essentials right now. Turk would be by later to help me move the rest.

With one arm wrapped around the box, I slid the key into the lock with my free hand and opened the door to my temporary abode. Pushing the door open, I found myself face to face with a smirking janitor and the barrel of a gun.

_BAM!_

_Dammit,_ right in the face _again!_

I fell backwards and hit the wall behind me, the box falling from my arms and hitting the ground with a _thunk._ I could faintly hear something breaking in it too.

The Janitor just stood there with a triumphant grin and blew at the barrel of his gun like some sort of stupid cowboy. I stayed on the ground, slumped against the wall, and glared at him with my one working eye while waiting for the other eye and the rest of my face to repair itself.

"Bet you didn't see that coming," he said, all cocky over catching me off guard.

"That's not fair," I finally managed to say. "You already got me. I never said you could shoot me twice."

"You never said only once," the Janitor automatically said.

He got me there. I would think something like that is implied. Damn him and his loopholes.

Looking a bit confused, he asked, "Wait, what do you mean 'twice?'"

"Don't play stupid," I hissed, wiping the blood off my healed face with my sleeve. "You already shot me once before." Looking over my shoulder at the blood spatters on the wall, I said, "You better hope that comes out."

"Soap, water, and bleach. If that doesn't work, paint over it," he said simply. "And I didn't shoot you before. Your mind-tricks won't work on me."

"In the locker," I reminded him. "You rigged it to shoot me when I opened it."

"That's brilliant!" he said with one of those 'torture JD' glints in his eye. "Wish I had thought of it."

So that wasn't him? ...No, it _had_ to be him! I refuse to believe otherwise. He's just trying to mess with me like he always does.

"I don't have time for this," I said, picking up my box and pushing past him. I set the box down inside before turning back to the Janitor and asking, "Hey, how'd you get in?"

"Up the fire escape and through the window," he said.

With a fake smile, I said, "I'll be sure to lock that then."

Then I pushed him out the front door, or at least I tried to. The man was like a mountain.

Getting the hint, the Janitor walked out the front door, but not before giving me a threatening look and saying, "I'm watching you."

I closed the door behind him with a sigh. It never ends.

* * *

Perry's POV 

It's been a couple weeks since those two reaps I messed up on. Since then, I've taken care of every reap I've been assigned, and on time too. I didn't need a repeat of what happened to those two people. The money Dan used to pay for the hotel room ran out, and so, at Newbie's suggestion, I've taken to camping out at the homes of my reaps that lived lonely, secluded lives. Whenever the landlord came around looking for rent, I'd move on to the next apartment or house. There's no point in spending my drinking game winnings on some dump.

All of the papers for my medical degree and license have yet to come in, so for now I'm stuck doing side-jobs and swindling people out of their money.

I also got a bike. Not like Newbie's nerdy scooter, just a regular bicycle. That way, I would only have to ride public transportation when absolutely necessary. I'll get a car eventually, I just need to wait until I have a better income than drinking games.

Jordan and my sister have recently gotten around to getting a gravestone put up over my grave. I was going to see it today and Newbie was tagging along. I don't know why I was going to see it. Maybe it was some morbid form of closure.

I took a cab to the cemetery because it was too far to travel by bike. Not knowing how long I'd be, I paid the driver so he could leave. No use in running up the meter. I could always call another cab when I was ready to go.

Newbie was already there. He stood waiting by the front entrance with his scooter parked next to him. Mentally sighing, I walked over to him, giving a nod in greeting.

He held up a six-pack of beer with a small smile, saying, "It seemed fitting for the occasion."

We made our way across the green grass of the cemetery. It was actually a nice day out. The sun was out and the sky was clear. Any wind was more cooling than it was uncomfortable.

Finally we reached my gravesite and jutting out of the ground was a slab of black, polished marble. The engravings looked almost silver against it.

_In Memory of  
Percival Cox  
Father - Brother - Ex-Husband  
1962 ----- 2007_

Underneath the date of my birth and death was a snake wrapped around a staff; the symbol for someone in the medical profession. That symbol and the 'ex-husband' bit made me smile a little.

To my left, I could hear Newbie opening two beer bottles. He held one out to me and I took it, not looking away from the gravestone.

"It's a nice gravestone," he said, gesturing to it with his bottle.

"Yeah, Newbie," I said. "It is."

* * *

_1925: In a lab dedicated to the discovery of a cure for Yersinia pestis._

Steve McDouglas was sterilizing beakers when he heard his boss swear loudly.

"Is there a problem, Sir?" he asked., setting the beakers aside and approaching his boss.

"No, no problem aside from the usual," his boss said with a heavy sigh. He looked into the high-powered microscope again, examining a sample in the Petri dish.

"Sample 37B had a negative reaction to treatment 4G," he explained. "It appears to have _mutated_ the virus" Sliding his chair away from the table, he stood up with another sigh. "Dispose of the sample for me, McDouglas, I'm going to go have lunch."

As Steve's boss walked away to go clean up, he mumbled to himself, "I thought I was getting close."

As soon as his boss was gone, Steve sat in his place and looked at the sample through the microscope himself.

"Interesting," he muttered outloud.

Grabbing the Petri dish out from under the microscope, he held it in his hand and just stared at it for a moment. The virus had mutated and if anything, it looked to be even more destructive. Steve looked from the Petri dish to the documentation on the sample sitting on the table.

Grabbing the documentation off the table, Steve went to go makes copies of the papers. Afterwards, instead of destroying the sample, he hid it in the fridge where he could retrieve it later when he left. One never knows, it might just come in handy in the future.

* * *

_Bum, bum, BUM! That's all for My So-Called Afterlife (insert end credits here). A lot of you pretty much guessed this scenario though, but don't be so quick to judge. _

_I would like to thank all of my wonderful readers and reviewers! You guys rock! _

_Stay tuned for the next fic :)_


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